The Haunting of CRV Starghast
by Tobias Umbra
Summary: On a secretive corporate research vessel, something has gone horribly wrong. When the newly-reformed Team StarFox is hired to investigate, they encounter terrors beyond their imagination. What started as a simple contract is now a fight to survive the night...and prevent the extermination of all life in the Lylat System. What is dead can never die.
1. Prologue: They Live

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Those of you familiar with me might expect an extended tale filled with character drama and elaborate fight sequences, some StarFox vs. StarWolf action like my previous tales or something like that. You'd be wrong. Instead of giving you what I think you think you want, I'm trying something different, experimental, and a little weird. For those of you not familiar with my previous works, all that's really required to know is that, in the previous story, the StarFox Team rebuilt itself after a falling out that included Krystal being the bounty hunter Kursed and the entire team nearly getting killed. And Wolf O'Donnell is now in prison. The rest is just background, though you'd probably appreciate it more if you read my previous stories. I wanted to put my interpretations of the characters in situations that they're not really prepared for, and experiment with a genre that I feel isn't really touched on when it comes to Star Fox: Horror. This whole story is sort of my love letter to various works of horror fiction, and takes inspiration from works such as Shirley Jackson's The Haunting of Hill House, HP Lovecraft's At The Mountains of Madness, John Carpenter's _The __Thing _and Ridley Scott's _Alien_. Just in time for Halloween. So kick back, relax, and enjoy, dear readers. You may not want to read this one alone in the dark.

* * *

"_It's impossible for words to describe…what is necessary to those who do not know what…horror means. Terror is merely a fear for one's own safety. Horror…it's... it's an immune response. It's a fear that the horror will…touch you, infect you, and spread, until it is your existence. Until it waits beneath the surfaces of everything you love. Horror has a face, and a way of making your face its own."__- _General Maximilian Zaius

**-They Live-**

"The confirmation hearings of Field Marshal Ramsay Bolton began in the House of Consuls today, led by conservative opposition leader Lois Culbard. Marshal Bolton is Prime Minister Fitzroy's top pick to replace George Pepper as General of the Cornerian Armed Forces, acting as interim General after the resignation of Peppy Hare. The hearings began at four this after-"

"They _walk_. They _live_. They hunger for _living brains_! The new season of Zombie Chaos, only on KidzNet!-"

The image on the holovision flatscreen flickered once again, changing to show a handsome vulpine with blue eyes, bright red fur and black markings on the tips of his ears. He raised a blaster pistol and fired at a series of canisters in the background, staring into the camera as the canisters exploded in a bloom of fire. He spun his pistol back into the holster and chugged a thin soda can in his hand, the label "Powerthirst" fully visible. The vulpine let out a satisfied sigh, then a disembodied voice announced "This has been your Justin Jackson Powerthirst moment!" "You're watchin' QuestForce, dawg," Justin Jackson winked, "This is what it's all about."

The flatscreen went dark as an athletic female cheetah tossed the remote onto a corner of the mattress.

"I _hate _HV," she sighed, rolling onto her back and running a hand through the mane of brown hair extensions, "It gives me headaches."

"Then don't watch it," replied the long-eared lynx lounging on the other side of the bunk, her nose in an e-sheet reader, "Just go to sleep. Your shift's at seventeen-hundred, isn't it?"

"17:30," the cheetah said, staring with lavender eyes into the field of stars through the tiny viewport, "But I've never been big on cat-naps."

"Just _try_, Ally," the lynx murmured.

"_Addy_," she corrected, "It's not like you to slip up."

"Sorry, A," the lynx returned in a low voice.

The pair of ID badges on the nightstand next to the bunk identified the cheetah as Adelaide Ploughman and the lynx as Mara Lynch, a lieutenant security officer and a research assistant on the Commercial Research Vessel _Starghast_. These were not the names of either female.

"I know how you can make it up to me," Adelaide grinned, pawing at Mara's foot under the blanket.

"Not right now, baby," Mara shook her head, eyes scanning the e-sheet.

"Come on," Adelaide leered, "It'll tire me out."

Mara looked up and scrutinized the suggestively-posed cheetah with cold blue eyes.

"You sure it's a great idea to carry on like this?" Mara inquired.

"What do you mean?" Addy said, her voice tender, brow furrowed with concern.

"I mean it draws attention. To the both of us."

"There's plenty of people aboard hooking up," Addy shrugged, "It's a big ship, we're floating out in the middle of nowhere for an extended stay...people get lonely. People get horny. We're just another pair."

"Except we have a pretty big secret to hide. If we blow our cover-"

"I _know _what happens if we blow our cover, Miyu-"

"Now who's slipping?" Mara interjected.

"I _know _what happens if we blow our cover, Mara," Addy continued, rolling her eyes, "But if it looks like all we're doing is some hanky-panky on the side, no one's going to get suspicious when they see a security officer and a research assistant hanging out all the time. You don't have to be so..."

"What?" Mara demanded.

"I don't know, it's just...since we've started this one, you've been...different," Addy murmured, "I just hope that whatever it is, it hasn't changed how you feel about me."

The lynx exhaled and put her e-sheet down on the nightstand, a half-smile working its way up her muzzle.

"Of course not, baby," Mara crooned, her cold eyes sparkling with the glowpanel's light as if made of glass, "Get up here."

Addy's eyes lit up and the lips pulled away from her furred muzzle in a grin. She slinked across the mattress on all fours up towards the lynx, her spotted tail twitching coyly.

"You gonna make me purr?" Addy smirked in a sultry tone.

"And then some," Mara promised, slipping the blanket off her body.

* * *

The cheetah that called herself Adelaide Ploughman was fast asleep with a contented smile as the one calling herself Mara Lynch fastened the collar on her fitted gray research uniform, a blank expression on her face. A patch on one shoulder showed the long, vaguely I-shaped form of the research ship _Starghast_, while the logo of Helix Biotech Corporation was sewn into the other. The lynx fastened her ID badge to her breast and walked towards the door, shutting off the glowpanels in the cabin as Adelaide stirred ever so slightly. Mara opened and closed the heavy metal door as quietly as she was able. She walked calmly down the gray metal corridors of the ship, passing several coworkers and ship's personnel, giving almost everyone a polite smile and a nod. A heavyset amphibian stopped her at the small alcove of couches near the entrance to the D Deck research labs, trying to make conversation about the latest prize fight in Wayland, since he'd heard that she followed the sport. Mara endured his mostly-miss jokes, his awkward flirtations, giving the same peaceful smiles and nods that she'd given everyone on her way here, offering little in return until he finally ran out of things to say and released her. She chuckled at his last joke and wished him farewell, then walked calmly down the corridor. There was no need to accelerate. The research team for her lab would not begin their shift for another three hours. That was more than enough time. She strode by a window overlooking a sealed cleanroom environment, where a leporid in white coveralls and a transparent hood was manipulating a sample dish with a pair of robotic claws. Mara waved airily at the leporid, receiving a nod in return as she passed out of view and reached a door marked LAB A-12.

The door recognized her ID badge and slid open with an automatic hiss, and she walked into the sterile room of polished white machinery and computer consoles. Even with all of the research equipment and tools, the lab was practically unremarkable until one noticed an object about the length of an adult's torso, mounted on a tall pedestal in the center of the room and encased in a reinforced glass capsule. A black base of rigid tendrils, equally suggestive of a plant and a fungus, wrapped around a dull pink orb marked by veins that appeared to be flowing with a liquid of some sort. Snarled around the upper half of the orb were more tendrils to join the base, stretching upwards to form a jagged antenna, crowned with a hexagonal blue gem. When exposed to ultraviolet light, conduits throughout the entire object glowed a bright, unnatural green. Despite its geometric, structured appearance, one could not lose the impression that the object had _grown _this way. The most significant remnant of an extinct alien race, there was nothing else like it in the Lylat System.

Mara looked over her shoulder at the security holocamera mounted in the ceiling, then at the chronometer near the door. The program she'd uploaded into the security surveillance network was subtle enough that it had never been noticed. All it did was delay the transmission of footage from the camera to the security network by a few fractions of a second every day, while modifying the time stamp to cover up the discrepancy. By now, there would be a ten minute window before anyone in the security office became aware of what she was doing. Ten was all she required.

Mara's fingers were centimeters away from the locks securing the artifact to the pedestal when the door hissed open and a middle-aged chameleon with a double chin walked in. She faced him with a blank expression on her face as his scaly green forehead wrinkled in puzzlement.

"Mara?" the chameleon inquired, "What are you doing here? Shift's not until eleven-hundred."

"Dr. Carpenter," Mara replied monotonously, "Your shift isn't until then, either."

"I couldn't sleep," Carpenter muttered, moving towards a computer terminal with a holographic interface, "I had an idea for a possible source proxy to activate the nanites. I remember reading that the Aparoids were capable of interfacing and assimilating electronic networks as well as biological constructs. Wanted to run some tests to see how samples from the core memory reacted to a basic interface program. VIRGIS provided me with a mock-up to use."

"Fascinating," Mara said, unfastening one of the locks securing the capsule.

"What are you—hey! Stop that," Carpenter demanded, reaching to grab her, "What's gotten int-"

Mara grabbed Carpenter's outstretched arm and flung him over her shoulder, slamming him onto a metal table and dashing several pieces of equipment to the floor. The reptilian gasped in shock, looking up as her hand came down in a blur of motion and snapped his neck. The doctor's legs and tail jerked, rattling into the metal tabletop, but his eyes were empty and his head hung at a limp, awkward angle over the edge. Mara looked back up at the holocamera with a blank expression, then back at the glass capsule encasing the Aparoid core memory. Ten minutes, starting now. She unfastened the security clasps locking the capsule in place, wrapping it in a spare lab coat hanging on the wall and carrying it in her arms like a newborn child. She left lab A-12 and walked brusquely down the corridor towards the turbolifts, but regarded everyone she passed with the same polite smiles and nods, as if it was all normal and everything was going to be fine.

* * *

Flickering glowpanels in the ceiling competed with flashing yellow emergency lights, reducing Alice's vision to a frame-by-frame nightmare as shadows danced off the walls. The wailing alarm and the sound of her own intense breathing as her feet pounded into the floor made her almost deaf to anything else, and she gripped her blaster pistol so tight that it hurt. She'd abandoned calling herself Adelaide Ploughman, there was no point in maintaining a cover amongst all the chaos and horror. With every second she had for her mind to wonder, all she could think was _Where is Miyu? _Given the fate of so many others, maybe it was best that she didn't know.

"We're almost there Lambert, the ladder's just around the corner!" Alice called behind, her eyes flying to every floor grate and doorway that she spotted, trying to anticipate an attack and gritting her teeth in the realization that it could come from _anywhere_. She tried to control her breathing, gulping down air as the corridor ended in a T-junction in front of her.

"This way," Alice instructed, "Lambert? Lam..."

She was silent. The corridor was dark and empty, flickering and full of shadows as she peered down the length of it. There wasn't a trace of Lambert.

"Fuck," She whispered with dread, her voice drowned out by the blaring alarms.

A female's scream rang down the dark corridors into Alice's ears, joined by a male shriek that kept growing louder and louder until both were abruptly silenced. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears, almost louder than the alarms themselves, and Alice could feel the fur of her brow growing moist with sweat. She looked to the right to see a ladder leading into the ceiling, and she moved carefully towards it with her eyes flying wildly in every direction she could think of.

Shrill howls and alien moans rattled up the corridor, and Alice threw herself onto the rungs, climbing upwards. It was useless to control her breathing now.

Emerging slowly from the floor of the next deck, Alice's chest heaved up and down as her lavender eyes grew swollen, freezing as she looked around for anything that might be waiting for her.

She didn't know how long she sat crouched on the floor, listening to her own terrified panting and the thumpings of her heart, but she knew it was far too long.

_Am I the only one left?_ she kept thinking, and the idea threatened to seize her muscles where she stood. The pistol felt more useless by the second.

She galloped down the corridor, running backwards for fear that they might come up behind her only

to whip back around so that she'd know where she was going. A rattling, empty howl from something unnatural reached her ears, but she didn't hear anything approach. None of Alice's training had prepared her for this. She was a child locked in a house of monsters. She came to a turn in the corridor and glanced cautiously around the corner, breath jetting unevenly out of her nostrils, then she whipped back around and looked down the way she came as she tripped backwards into an emergency oxygen canister strapped to the wall. She clapped a hand to her mouth but the shriek of surprise had already escaped her jaws and echoed painfully down the corridor. Hyperventilating out of her nose, she pressed herself against the wall and tried to hear what she could over the alarms, her hand still clamped over her mouth. There were throaty, wailing moans from down the corridor, then gurgling squeals, followed by the unmistakable sound of movement. Alice's heart shuddered in her chest and her eyes darted to the multiple places that they could be coming from. She couldn't tell, all she knew was they were getting _closer. _Vague, horrific silhouettes flooded down a branching corridor towards her, and Alice screeched as she fired off three shots into the darkness and took off running, sounds that she'd never heard a living thing make erupting behind her. Pumping her arms and gasping for breath, she didn't dare fire a shot or look behind, she just kept running even though her lungs were burning for air.

Something that had once been a canine with tentacles and teeth in all the wrong places leapt out of the shadows to her left, bellowing hoarsely as it reached for her with gnarled limbs. Alice screamed and claws brushed past her shoulder, the thing illuminated in orange as she fired a blaster bolt into its face. It staggered backwards and Alice stumbled around it, then it joined the stampede of twisted shapes chasing after her. Her breaths were somewhere between gasps and screams, drowned out by the alarms and the howling of the horde behind. She could see the open doors at the end of the hallway, the lit room that she'd been looking for, it was so close but so was their rotting alien stench.

She threw herself into the room and smashed her ID badge into a control panel, the doors sliding closed just as the horde was illuminated by the glowlamps of the room. A loud slam on the other side of the door was accentuated by angry shrieks as claws scratched and deformed bodies rammed into the metal.

Alice gulped for air, staring aghast at the doors for a few moments before running to a systems console on the wall and opening a communications channel.

"Bridge control, this is Lieutenant Ploughman, do you copy?!" Alice called urgently, "Bridge control, do you re-"

The holographic display shimmered and a dark, wide-nosed face with beady yellow eyes flashed over the screen, snarling at her with a digital garble of static before the display went dead.

"Shit," Alice whispered, then another loud slam drew her attention to a large dent in the doors.

The doors wouldn't hold much longer. Not when those things thought fresh prey was on the other side.

She looked around for something, _anything_, that might give her a chance. She was in a small rec room for the nearby engineering personnel dormitories. There was little more than a couch, a flatscreen and a kitchen with a large conservator. The conservator gave her an idea. It was a long shot, but it was the best she had.

Alice went to work. The sounds of the creatures trying to break in made her jump and stop, but she gritted her teeth and told herself to work faster.

They were coming.

They were coming.


	2. 28 Days Later

**-28 Days Later-**

"Okay, so there we were. I'm half deaf from the explosion, my ankle's sprained and I can barely walk. Pigma's bleeding like a...well, he's bleeding a lot, and we've got maybe fifteen minutes before Stone's mass driver fires an asteroid the size of a mountain into Corneria City. James leads us into this big room, and up on a balcony there's Stone, just standing there waiting for us. James tries to blast him, but Stone's got a shield projected over the balcony, then all these guys with rifles come in and line up. Way more than any of us can handle," Peppy Hare elaborated, clearing his throat and taking a moment to smirk at his captive audience,

"Then Stone goes on about how he's finally got the great James McCloud cornered, and how he wants to see him beaten down like he deserves. So Stone offers to let Pigma and I live if James puts down his gun and agrees to fight his guards hand to hand. Jim throws his blaster to the ground and then the doors under the balcony open. Thirty guys come out. _Thirty _of them. Mostly canines but a few buff reptilians and a handful of equines. And they're not just barehanded. They've got knives. They've got riot shields. They've got shock batons, they've got regular batons, they've got just about everything but blasters, and they surround James. Now, I'm thinking this is it. I'm thinking, shit, we've just failed everyone and now we're going to die and Corneria's getting hit with a planet-killer. Jim? Cool as a cucumber. He looks up at Stone and asks him if this is the best he has. Stone tells his guys to tear James apart. And then James starts going at it. Doesn't stop. He's moving so fast it's hard to see him, he's ducking punches, he's grabbing batons out of guy's hands and breaking their faces with it, then _breaking _the damn batons so they can't use 'em again. He's jumping over people's shoulders, grabbing guys and throwing them into other guys, he's doing all this crazy shit and I can't believe it but it's _working_. Jim's outnumbered thirty to one and he's beating the _shit _out of 'em. I'm laughing my ass off. So is Pigma. Stone just keeps screaming what the fuck is wrong with you, he's one fucking guy!"

"That's funny," Falco Lombardi simpered, the soft corners of his beak turning upwards as he leaned back in his chair.

"It's not over," Peppy chuckles, "A few _more _guys come in. Two of them with rifles. Jim uses one guy as a shield, then throws him into one of them. Then he runs up, tears the gun out of the guy's hands, smashes him in the face with it, then breaks the _gun_ over his knee. Then picks up the rifle from the other guy and mows down the rest of the guards with the blaster rifle. There's more than thirty guys lying on the ground and I'm still laughing my ass off. Stone can't believe it. He just looks down at James and whispers, you can't be real. Jim looks up and says, I'm as real as it gets."

"Bull_shit_," Falco banished with a shake of his head.

"Saw it with my own eyes," Peppy shrugged.

"People don't say shit like that in real life," Falco returned.

"Are you sure there were _thirty _of them, Peppy?" Krystal interjected, her pale muzzle wrinkling quizzically.

"I'm _sure_," Peppy nodded, "Ask Slippy or Fox. They were at school when it happened. Came home and told them the same story I just told you."

"Don't mean it's true," Falco muttered, getting up from the round table in the _Great Fox_'s galley and moving towards the conservator.

"Are you calling me a liar?" Peppy demanded gruffly, brown eyes glaring behind circular eyeglasses.

"I'm sayin' you're an old codger that likes ta' stretch the truth and your memory ain't what it used ta' be," the avian sent back, opening the door to the conservator, "_That's _what I'm callin' ya. You want anything, princess?"

"Are any of those vitamin water beverages left?" Krystal inquired as Peppy threw him a derisive look.

"_Vit-a-min_ water? Is that how ya just said it? _Vit-a-min?_" Falco muttered, grabbing a can of Slusho Soda, "Where'd ya learn this shit?"

"It's the proper pronunciation."

"Maybe on Bizarro World," Falco retorted, taking his seat and cracking open the soda, inserting a straw into the can. Krystal's aqua-colored eyes regarded Falco dubiously for a few moments, and he sent back a blank stare.

"Are there any left?" Krystal interrogated.

"Yeah, I think there's one. Grape. I think it's grape-flavored," he answered.

"Were you going to bring it to me?"

"I...already sat back down," Falco remarked helplessly, taking a sip of the soda. Krystal scoffed and got out of her chair, pulling her grey tee-shirt down to make sure that it covered her midriff as she made her way over to the conservator.

"So, who was threatening Corneria with a mass driver?" Krystal inquired, opening the conservator and retrieving a grape Aqua Vita.

"His name was Xander Stone," Peppy said, "Head of Stonesoft Cybernetics. He made war droids and AI hardware. Also a certifiable megalomaniac that sold battle droids and research to Andross before the war. He was the closest thing Fox's dad had to a recurring enemy."

"Really?" Krystal inquired, sipping from the drink as she returned to her seat, "That wasn't the last time they met?"

"No. He escaped. Came back almost a year later with a bomb he said would make Triton to go supernova and wipe out all life in the Lylat System."

"Somethin' tells me tha' bomb didn't live up to tha hype," Falco retorted.

"Beltino examined it after. Said that something bad would've happened, supernova or not. And who knows? Maybe Stone sold the designs to Andross too, and that's how he made a bomb that could generate a black hole," Peppy mused.

The mention of the singularity device and StarFox's close brush with annihilation two months ago cast a pall over the three of them, their faces darkening ever so slightly. None of them liked to dwell on just how close they'd come to losing everything, least of all Krystal. They were doing what they could to put it behind them.

"Did James kill him?" Krystal inquired.

"No," Peppy smiled, "He broke every bone in Stone's body. Then he brought him in and collected a massive reward. He's still in the supermax wing at the Anvil as we speak."

"The Anvil?" she probed.

"Maximum security prison station orbiting Aquas," Peppy explained, "I guess Stone's the most infamous resident, or at least he will be until they move O'Don-"

"Hey, guys," Slippy's voice erupted from the intercom in the ceiling, prompting the three to look up, "You might want to come up to the bridge."

"What's goin' on, Slip?" Falco inquired.

"We've got a call," Slippy answered, "Big corporate guy wants to speak to Fox, sounds like a contract headed our way."

"About damn time," Peppy grunted, getting out of his seat, "Where is he?"

"He's in the gym room, sparring with the holodeck simulation," Krystal answered.

"Sheesh, does he sleep anymore?" Falco remarked, "Hasn't given the thing a rest since we got it."

"I'll get him," Krystal offered.

"Tell him training's over," Peppy said as they filed towards the door.

* * *

Fox McCloud stood on the balls of his feet, knees shoulder width apart as his forehead rippled with concentration. The occasional bead of sweat slithered through his fur like a shooting star. His green eyes were locked on the one-eyed wolf pacing a few meters in front of him, a cruel smirk on his muzzle. Wolf O'Donnell was clad in the narcium shoulder plate armor and blue blast-vest that he'd taken to wearing over the past few years; Fox wore his military green flightsuit, his Team StarFox jacket discarded to expose toned arms covered in red fur. The blue photoreceptor of Wolf's ocular implant glowed softly, almost obscuring the StarWolf mercenary's face in a halo.

"You think you can beat _me?_" Wolf sneered, "I'll be the one to take _you _down."

Fox ignored the cheesy taunts programmed into the simulator's projection of Wolf. The polished, arrogant and almost aristocratic voice sounded nothing like the genuine article. After repairing the damages done to the _Great Fox_ in their last encounter with StarWolf, Fox had used the reward money from Wolf O'Donnell's capture to purchase a holodeck combat simulator for the gym room. The clever combination of holoprojectors and shield generators meant that the simulator could construct any combination of obstacles for the user, all of which were capable of being hit and hitting back to an extent. There were even pre-programmed enemies that the user could choose from, from generic space pirates to QuestForce pilot Justin Jackson or even Andross. Fox had sprung for a bonus package, specifically so that he could fight Wolf. Then he'd gotten Slippy to modify the program based on what they'd witness Wolf actually do in a fight, aiming for as realistic a simulation as possible.

"What's the matter, _scared_?" the simulated Wolf taunted.

That was something Fox could've sworn Wolf had said at least once.

Wolf leapt forward and lashed out with his claws, Fox ducking underneath to deliver a solid blow to the lupine's chest. Wolf's image flickered with orange light, then the hologram stabilized and tried to knee Fox in the face. He rolled to the side, dodging another swipe from Wolf's claws, then caught the lupine's arm and smashed an elbow into his armpit. Wolf flickered yet again, then kicked Fox in the stomach, driving him back. The impact from the simulator's shield generators was more like a hard shove than a kick, but it hurt just enough to motivate the user to avoid a strike. Fox moved back, lashing out with a kick that the Wolf-simulation dodged, then the simulation charged forward with a flurry of furious claw-swipes. Fox dodged them one after the other, waiting for an opening then finally grabbing Wolf's wrist and shoving his arm aside, leaving him wide open for a hard punch in the jaw. There was a crackle and a flash of orange light as the hologram flickered, then the Wolf-simulation vanished.

Fox exhaled hard. How many rounds had he fought Wolf for today? He'd lost count. It wasn't as if the simulation was perfect. It didn't quite know how to adapt like Wolf, and the simulation tended to de-rez after four or more good hits. The real Wolf, on the other hand, was capable of shrugging off beatdowns that might kill a lesser being. He'd have to ask Slippy to work on making the whole thing more challenging.

It was only after Fox had instructed the computer to re-load the Wolf simulation that he realized he was being watched. He glanced over his shoulder outside of the holodeck's borders, amongst the weights and exercise equipment of the _Great Fox_'s gym room, to see an azure-furred vixen in a gray tee-shirt, vest and shorts, with a blue rhombus-shaped stone on a golden chain around her neck.

"Hey," Fox breathed.

"Hello," she returned.

"You think you can beat _me?_" Wolf repeated, "I'll be the one to take _you _down."

"Doing a bit of sparring?" she said with a soft smile, her hands held behind her back as she leaned into the ring.

"Yep," Fox grunted, facing the Wolf-simulation again.

"Expecting a death-match in the near future?" Krystal inquired, catching him just as he was about to make a move.

He paused, looking back at her. He still wasn't sure how to act. Krystal had made it clear that even though she was back with the team, their romance was over. They were teammates first, friends second, and there was no third layer. He'd thought it would be easy to put both their relationship and her time as Kursed behind him.

"Let's just say I'm tired of getting my ass kicked," Fox muttered.

"That doesn't happen often," Krystal remarked as he dodged a swing from the Wolf-simulation.

"That it happens at ALL is bad ENOUGH," Fox replied, blocking a blow and delivering a powerful kick to the Wolf-simulation's stomach.

"_He's _the only one to ever do it more than once," Krystal shrugged.

"Yeah? And remember what happened last time?" Fox growled, jabbing at the hologram, "We lost the _contract_. We lost the _money_. And we almost lost our _lives_, because I couldn't _stop _him."

"And then you _caught _him," Krystal shrugged, "He's going to be in prison for the rest of his life. You won. Move on from the bad. You all taught me that, remember?"

"I'm TIRED. Of GETTING. My ASS kicked!" Fox snarled, headbutting the Wolf-simulation in the face, watching it disintegrate in a flash of orange light.

"Yes. You've said that," Krystal sighed.

Fox looked back at her, breathing raggedly.

"Something I can do for you?" he demanded in the most polite tone he could manage.

Krystal smiled.

"We have a call," she explained, "A prospective client wants to speak to you personally. I'd tidy myself up if I were you."

With that, the vixen turned and slipped out of the room, her bottlebrush tail twitching suggestively behind her. Fox shook his head to get his mind out of the gutter, then reached for a towel.

* * *

The doors to the bridge slid open for Fox and he entered the familiar bright room of workstations and flickering holographic display screens. Even with the cold, recycled air of the _Great Fox _pumped through the entire ship, he still hadn't put on his jacket, savoring the feeling as the sweat on his bare arms evaporated. He was in the process of tying one of his signature short red scarves around his neck to absorb any extra sweat as he entered the bridge, finding everyone else in their usual spots. Slippy grinned at him from the engineering console, Fox gave him a nod and looked over to the damage control console where Krystal sat, eyes locked on the stars visible through the bridge's panoramic viewport.

"So, anything about this guy?" Fox inquired, taking a seat at the worn leather captain's chair with the attached computer console in the center of the bridge.

"The transmission's from Corneria, the financial district of Anaxes," Peppy replied from his seat at the forward control console, "From the headquarters of Helix Biotechnology Corporation."

"Is Helix Biotech a good corporation or a bad corporation?" Fox prompted.

"What the hell is a 'good' corporation?" Peppy retorted, "ROB did a quick background check and found nothing super-evil."

"**Helix Biotech is a leader in nanotechnology research, and rivals Hollowan-Biosyn Labs for a majority share in the biotechnology market**," ROB-64 spoke from his USC station at the left forward control console, "**They have multiple contracts with the Cornerian Commonwealth government, and their most successful product to date is a patented strain of provitate ointment, used by a majority of medcenters in Corneria, Aquas and Zoness. No outstanding charges of misconduct, corruption or negligence.**"

Peppy glanced over at Fox.

"Satisfied?" the old rabbit inquired with a crooked smile beneath bushy whiskers. StarFox's previous contract, working for Corneria's spy agency the Commonwealth Security Bureau, had been a disaster in large part because they had overestimated the trustworthiness of their client. Dealing with danger was part of StarFox's job, but not from the people that had hired them in the first place. Fox was determined to never again let a client manipulate them and put them at risk like the CSB had.

"Patch him through," Fox said with a wave of his hand, "Let's see what they have to say."

The holoprojector in the ceiling lit up and displayed the twisting blue logo of the Helix Biotech Corporation, then the logo disappeared and the ghostly image of a husky male canine sitting at a desk was projected in the empty space in front of Fox's chair. The dog was a malamute, wearing a navy blue suit with a lighter blue collared shirt and a black tie that had been loosened by several centimeters. Though his desk was a minimalist fusion of glass and metal, there were e-sheets and datapads strewn chaotically around the surface, to the point that the malamute's computer monitor just barely peeked above the clutter. The malamute's eyes were heavy as if he hadn't slept in days, and as he traded gazes with Fox it seemed like he didn't know whether to smile or frown.

"Commander McCloud," the malamute said tiredly, "I'm R.J. McMurdo. Vice President of Operations for Helix Biotech. Thank you for speaking with me."

"Team StarFox is always looking for work," Fox nodded, scanning the projection's face, "What can I do for you, Mr. McMurdo?"

McMurdo swallowed, looking down at his desk before returning his eyes to Fox.

"My company has a...situation that we're hoping you can help us resolve. Quietly," the projection grunted.

"I'm listening."

"Commander, our head of security recommended we contact you, but I'm about to reveal some very confidential information," McMurdo started, looking around at the other members of StarFox on the bridge, "If I could ask that your team be excused while I brief-"

"My team risks just as much as I do. We're all just as discreet," Fox interjected, "Whatever you share with me gets shared with them, so it'll save us some time to just include them in the conversation."

McMurdo shuffled in his seat uncomfortably, a grimace forming on his muzzle as Falco and Krystal smirked. The malamute fished a holodisc out of his breastpocket and loaded it into a slot on his desk. Another holoprojector in the ceiling lit up and drew in blue wire-frames a long starship, a squat slab of metal with a central island topped by a large communications array and a thick cylindrical formation on each end that gave the ship the vague appearance of a massive letter I.

"This is the Commercial Research Vessel _Starghast_, an _Auriga_-class scientific ship. For the past seven months, it's been in high-altitude geocentric orbit over Titania, with a crew of 390 and a team of sixty scientists researching Helix Biotech's most expensive and confidential projects," McMurdo informed them, "Twenty eight days ago, our headquarters office received a distress call from the _Starghast_, describing some sort of outbreak. In less than twelve hours, we lost all contact."

Fox's brow furrowed as he looked at the ship, then at McMurdo.

"An _outbreak_?" Fox inquired, "This sounds more like a job for the Army, or the Cornerian Ministry of Health. Our ship isn't big enough to fit four hundred and fifty people, let alone treat them for infection."

"It's a bit more...complicated than that, Commander McCloud," McMurdo grimaced.

"Twenty-eight days?" Falco whistled, "You boys like takin' your time, don't ya?"

"Standard company policy is to allow for two weeks of no-contact in the event of contamination before sending in rescue teams. The hope is that the outbreak is contained or it dulls over those two weeks in a sealed environment isolated from major population centers," McMurdo answered, "Fourteen days ago, a company rescue team reached the _Starghast_. They were on the ship for less than two hours before we lost contact. A week ago, we sent another team. No contact after twenty-nine minutes."

Troubled looks spread over the faces of Team StarFox.

"This still sounds like some kind of virus outbreak," Fox remarked slowly, "We're freelancers, not biologists. I'm not sure what you expect us to do."

"This would suggest a viral or bacterial outbreak, except for the signals that we received from the _Starghast_," McMurdo answered.

"I thought you said the ship went dark after twelve hours."

"That was twenty-eight days ago," McMurdo explained, "In the first eleven hours, it was a standard, pre-programmed distress call. In the last fifty-nine minutes, the signal changed. It appeared to be a warning to stay away from the ship. That signal disappeared, and the ship was quiet until seven days ago."

"What happened seven days ago?"

McMurdo breathed and shifted in his chair.

"After we lost contact with the second rescue team, the _Starghast _sent out another signal. It was a standard distress call that indicated its guidance system and warp drives were malfunctioning. It requests any nearby ships to dock with the _Starghast _and assist the repairs," McMurdo said, his mouth dry, "The _Starghast _has not moved from it's current position, it remains in orbit over Titania, broadcasting the same signal, requesting warp-capable ships to board. We've stationed a company ship nearby to stop any one from getting close, but we don't even know what's happening on the shipanymore. We're hoping that StarFox can resolve this before the Cornerian Army gets involved."

Fox's emerald eyes narrowed, examining McMurdo's weathered face. The malamute's eyes turned downward to avoid his gaze.

"What kind of projects was the _Starghast _working on?" Fox interrogated with a hard look.

"There were dozens of projects active on the ship, Commander McCloud, just about everything from new strains of provitate to botanical research and-"

"I'm talking about the source of the contamination," Fox cut off, "Whatever it is that could've infected the crew."

"I'm not a scientist, I can only guess."

"Then give me a guess," Fox said firmly, "There's something you're not telling me. That's not how we work. Full disclosure or you find someone else to solve your problem."

McMurdo sighed and licked his lips anxiously. His pointed canine ears flattened with discomfort.

"There was a...special project that the company was researching on the _Starghast_," the malamute conceded.

"Here we go," Falco muttered with a roll of his icy blue eyes.

"Helix Biotech won a contract from the Cornerian Army to study a mostly-intact core memory recovered from the remains of a large Aparoid," McMurdo answered, prompting expressions of astonishment from the StarFox Team, "We wanted to see the potential nanotechnology applications that we could learn from the Aparoid nanites."

"You were trying to _study _the most dangerous organisms ever encountered," Fox said hotly, "And now you're wondering why you've lost contact with that ship."

"Now hold on," McMurdo piped up defensively, "This isn't that simple. We were doing nothing illegal, the core memory was given over by the Army and our research was approved. With the Queen dead, the nanites in the core memory were rendered inactive. The study was going on for months before this happened, there was nothing to indicate it was dangerous."

"If it has anything to do with the Aparoids, it's dangerous," Fox hissed, "And now it sounds like you've brought them back to life."

"That's not _fair_," McMurdo shot back, "We don't even know what happened or what's going on. Bringing them back to life isn't anything close to what we're aiming for, if that's even _possible_. We came to you because we know exactly what this sounds like. We're in over our heads and if the worst has happened, we wanted help from the people that stopped the Aparoids before."

Fox gritted his teeth and hissed out through his nose.

"What do you want from us?"

"We want you to go to the _Starghast_," McMurdo said, "We want you to infiltrate it and find out what happened. Rescue any survivors and recover any research data that you can. Then evaluate the situation and recommend a further course of action to us. If we went to the Army, the first thing that they would do is destroy that ship with all the research and any survivors, then blame the company. We came to StarFox because we believe you can contain this, prove the company's innocence and save it some money."

"And what if I find proof that someone in the company was responsible? Helix Biotech would still be liable," Fox demanded.

"We don't believe that's the case. But we're hiring you to investigate the truth and recover what you can. That's it," McMurdo returned.

Fox exhaled out of his nose and looked around at his teammates. After their near-death encounter with StarWolf, the last thing he wanted to do was bring his team back into contact with the Aparoids. But there was something else in his head. A nagging voice that demanded to know who else there was that _could _do this other than them. If there was a chance that the Aparoids really were back from the dead, sending the wrong people to handle it was almost worse than doing nothing. Could he sleep knowing that the Aparoids were one mistake away from being unleashed on the Lylat System again?

Fox looked up at Krystal, locking with her cyan-colored eyes. Her jaw was tight as she gave the slightest of nods. He swallowed and looked back at the hologram.

"We'll take it," Fox said quietly, "Forward us the coordinates for the _Starghast _and any additional information you might have. We'll send you our contract. It'll include our fee. Expect to pay for expenses, damages, and a flat rate if we complete the assignment. Expect to pay more for non-disclosure statements and anything else you might want outside of the contract parameters."

"Of course, Commander. It's a relief to hear that you're handling this for us," McMurdo nodded.

"We'll be in touch," Fox replied, then motioned for ROB to terminate the transmission.

The malamute executive disappeared with a ghostly flicker, leaving an uneasy quiet over the bridge.

Fox cupped his chin in his palm and looked around, finding a tentative and wary expression on the faces of each team member. Falco was the first to break the silence.

"Well...ain't that a bitch."

"I can't be the Aparoids," Slippy whispered, his enormous mouth in a frown, "It just _can't_."

"It's _somethin' _all up in that ship," Falco retorted, "What else could it be? Tha' Krumpus?"

"It can't be the Krumpus. It's not Giftmas yet," Peppy quipped.

"What's a Krumpus?" Krystal inquired.

"I'll tell you later," the rabbit smirked.

"Glad you guys can joke about this," Fox said loudly, "The teams that disappeared before us probably can't."

The bridge was penetrated with another pause.

"It...it's _not _the Aparoids, Fox," Slippy told him with a shake of his head, "The apoptosis program infected the Queen and wiped them out. You saw what happened, they're dead."

"And we thought the program would destroy them down to their cells. If a core memory survived, that didn't happen," Fox argued.

"One inanimate trace out of an entire race of organisms," Slippy replied, "That's not enough to bring them back to life."

"Then what is it?"

Slippy sighed, leaning back in his chair and looking up at the glowpanels.

"Space pirates," he shrugged, "Maybe a pathogen they were researching mutated and became airborne. A rogue AI program on the ship. There's _dozens _of things more likely than something coming back from the dead."

"Tell that to Andross," Fox growled.

Slippy didn't have a reply. Neither did anyone else. Fox exhaled.

"Okay," Fox breathed, "Here's how its going to work. This is a corporate science vessel, and we're being paid to salvage any research we can. Slippy, that means you're going in."

"Oh, come on Fox-"

"Do we have any _other _technical geniuses in the room?" Fox called out, as if he was serious. No one said anything, and Fox stared harshly at Slippy until he rolled his bulbous blue eyes in concession.

"Two of us will escort him on the ship. We'll wear biohazard gear until we can determine what kind of contamination we're dealing with," Fox continued, "Peppy and ROB will stay on the _Great Fox_ with one more left as backup."

"Dibs," Falco piped up, raising his hand. Fox gave him a look.

"What?" the avian shrugged, "I had your back tha' whole time last job. Even followed ya' onto a starship just like this. Ya' know what happened? It got sucked into a black hole. Nah-uh. I'm workin' backup on this dance."

Fox swiveled in his chair to face the azure furred vixen sitting at the damage control console.

"How about it, Krystal?" Fox probed, "You, me, and Slip?"

"Just like Sauria," she equated pleasantly, then her face dropped awkwardly, "Well, sort of."

Fox turned in his chair to avoid the trip down memory lane, glancing out through the bridge's viewport and then over to ROB-64.

"What's our fastest route to Titania?"

"**Establishing an uplink with the Beltino Orbital Gate or the Triton Orbital Gate over Aquas, gating out to one of those points, then relaying into orbit over Titania**," the android replied, "**Using StarFox's priority clearance codes, the journey will last two hours, allowing for traffic. Estimate an additional half hour to achieve an orbit parallel with the **_**Starghast**_."

"Slip, is that enough time to gather the equipment you'll need?"

"Sure thing."

"Make sure to bring a copy of the Self-Destruct Program you and Beltino made to kill the Queen," Fox said quietly, "ROB, make the jump. Everyone else is dismissed."

Krystal, Falco and Slippy exited the bridge as ROB went to work.

"**Engines primed for maximum warp. Coordinates entered for Corneria. Awaiting jump clearance from Beltino Orbital Gate**."

Fox breathed and looked at the floor, ignoring Peppy's gaze.

"Are you alright?" Peppy mumbled warmly, "You've been training yourself to the limit since we brought O'Donnell in. I thought getting Krystal back and having everyone together again might brighten you up a bit. At least I was hoping."

"She almost died. It didn't matter what I did, _everyone_ almost died," Fox whispered.

"But we _didn't_. We survived. You got better. Don't beat yourself up over it," Peppy consoled, shaking his head.

"We still lost."

"It happens. You're not perfect. Your father wasn't either, so don't treat yourself like a disappointment," the rabbit reprimanded with a shake of his head, his ears swaying left and right.

"**Jump clearance received**," ROB announced, oblivious to their conversation, "**Receiving warp gate broadcast**."

"How many close calls are we going to have before we lose someone?" Fox wondered in a bewildered tone.

"Stop," Peppy growled firmly, "Just stop thinking like that, you'll never sleep again. We're all adults, Fox, and we know the risks. We still do it. And hey!"

Fox looked into Peppy's brown eyes as the rabbit spread his arms, gesturing towards himself.

"I've been doing this shit longer than anyone. Probably had more close calls, too. And I'm still here," Peppy grinned.

Fox forced a smile, and felt a very authentic chuckle escape his jaws.

Through the panoramic viewport, the endless black field of stars ahead appeared to warp in on itself, forming a widening tunnel in space with a bright light at the end.

"**Warp gate broadcast received**," ROB said in his synthetic voice, "**Gate fully formed and stable. All systems are go**. **Attention all hands, **_**Great Fox **_**commencing gated jump to maximum warp in T-minus five, four, three, two, one. Commence jump.**"

An energized hum rumbled from the depths of the _Great Fox_, and the fur on the back of Fox's neck prickled, a tingling sensation caressing his fingertips. The ship quaked ever so slightly, then the tunnel of spacetime enveloped them, and the viewport was awash in a sea of rainbow haze over bright white as the _Great Fox _blasted into the wormhole.

"_**Great Fox **_**has achieved maximum warp stability. ETA at Beltino Orbital Gate is fifty-one minutes**," ROB informed them.

"What do _you _think this is?" Fox said.

"I don't know," Peppy submitted, "That's all the more reason to be careful and stay sharp when you're in there."

"Whatever happened to the _easy _contracts?" Fox tried to joke.

"They never existed. That's why it's called work."

Fox smiled and swallowed, but it didn't dislodge the tight anxiety gripping his chest.

"Do you think it's possible, Peppy?" Fox prompted quietly, "That the Aparoids are back?"

The rabbit grimaced, crossing his arms over his chest. A pair of incisors peeked out from under his whiskers.

"Not according to Slippy and Beltino. It's pretty unusual for them to be wrong about something like this," Peppy grunted, "It'd be the first time that _both _of them were wrong."

The rabbit's jaw tightened and he frowned, gazing at the lights display through the viewport.

"But I guess there's a first time for everything," he murmured.

* * *

ROB was incorrect. The whole trip to Titania, in the Kragg Sub-System of Lylat, took maybe an hour and a half. Fox had been doing push-ups off the floor of his cabin, his feet propped up on his bunk when the ship shuddered quietly and the swirl of colors through the viewport was replaced by starry black. He breathed and came down in his one hundred and ninth push up, then his feet sprang forward and touched down on the plush green rug covering the durasteel floor. Gulping down his sweaty fatigue, Fox rose and caught his athletic, shirtless profile in the transparisteel viewport that took up the rear wall of his cabin from knee-level up. He looked past the emerald eyes staring back at him and beheld the scene outside: Dominating the view was the massive planet of Titania, an enormous ball of sand and ruins and empty desolation, ringed with a vast band of ice, rock and dust thousands of kilometers wide. The red dwarf Solar was just visible as a scarlet dot in the abyss, while the star Kragg shone as a whitish-yellow marble, cold and distant. Even Titania's circular moon, Oberon, peeking just over the northeastern hemisphere, seemed pitiful compared to the planet framing his window. The ring was a cold, steely gray, Titania itself a dark, uneven brownish red. The color of drying blood.

Fox sat on his rug, crossed his legs and began to meditate. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing, in-and-out, in-and-out, slowly with his diaphragm. He almost felt the gravitational pull of the planet, a tentacle that reached across the blackness toward him, beckoning his approach. Next to no one lived on Titania, aside from a small Macbeth-owned settlement with a G-Zero racing course, and research bases studying the ruins of the strange insectoid civilization that had lived there in a different time when the world had a different face. The only remnants of the civilization were the Goras, elusive and apparently immortal plant-insect behemoths that the ancient Titanians worshiped as gods. The last time StarFox had been to the planet had to be five (or was it six?) years ago, when they'd teamed up with Katt Monroe to stop a rogue Cornerian Army captain from resurrecting Andross.

The dead had a tendency to rise when the ringed planet was involved.

Fox exhaled and opened his eyes, and Titania was still there, edging closer, alien and unwelcoming. He got up from the floor, entered the lavatory and ran the water for the shower, waiting for it to heat up before stripping out of his trousers and his briefs. It was useless to meditate when the universe out his window regarded him with malevolent eyes. He rinsed off the sweat and tried to scrub away some of the ominous foreboding, the origins of which Fox couldn't quite place. Twisting the water off, he pressed a red button on the wall outside and the thermal dryer in the ceiling glowed to life, evaporating the moisture in his fur as he smoothed it down composed and casually conservative. He put on a fresh pair of briefs and a spare forest green flight suit, buckling the belt with the winged fox buckle and the attached holster over his waist. Slipping into his boots, fingerless gloves and white jacket, Fox tied a new red scarf around his neck and slid his Cornerian ArmsCor EE-40 blaster into the holster. His pilot's headset was still resting on his desk when he left the cabin and wandered into the crisply white hall of C Deck.

Looking down the corridor towards the viewport filled with the black field of stars, Fox turned on his heel and passed door after door until he reached the last of the six living quarters. The room had only been occupied recently, and Fox could just hear muffled voices crooning, _"Once upon a time we were on the same side, once upon a time on the same side in the same game..." _Mulling it over for a few moments, Fox raised his fist and rapped his knuckles a few times on the door. There were sounds of movement and the door slid open, revealing a blue-furred vixen with strong cyan eyes, an electronic rock rhythm thumping out of a sound system mounted on a shelf on the cabin wall.

"Oh," Krystal smiled sheepishly, "One moment."

The vixen turned and walked toward the sound system as the duet of pop stars Candice Compton and Brian Valiant crooned, _"I could've been a princess, you'd be a king; I could've had a castle and worn a ring, but nooo-oh-ooo, you let me gooo-oh-ohhh; You stole my star, lalalala la la la-"_

The song suddenly halted as Krystal turned the sound system off and the room went quiet.

"Sorry about that," she said, her bottlebrush tail twitching behind her.

"Never would've pegged you for a pop music fan," Fox smirked.

"I haven't been exposed to much, I only know what I've heard on the wireless," Krystal shrugged, coming back to the doorway.

Fox looked around the room, a bare gray space for the most part with a recessed bunk in the further wall, overlooking a viewport out into space and sandwiched between a pair of shelves. Krystal never had very many possessions, and fewer still since rejoining the team. On one of the shelves, below the sound system was a potted Cornerian primrose, alongside books with such titles as **A Traveler's Guide to Zoness **and **One King to Rule Them All: The Rise of Cornerus the Great**. Collapsed and mounted on a plaque on the wall, Fox recognized Krystal's original Cerinian staff, the gem in the center of the golden, almond-shaped head glowing blue. Below the staff, propped up against the wall was an easel supporting a canvas, decorated with lines of oddly curving symbols.

Fox's brow furrowed and he scrutinized the canvas, looking over Krystal's shoulder.

"What is that?" he remarked, his bushy tail flicking behind him.

"Oh, its...just a poem," Krystal muttered.

"You're a poet now?"

"I didn't write it," she said, looking over her shoulder at the canvas, "It's something that my father recited for me. I'm trying to reconstruct it from memory."

"What's it say?"

"It doesn't translate very well," Krystal said, brushing a lock of azure hair out of her face and glancing off to the side. She shifted her feet and in the awkward silence Fox felt something crawl up his back that told him he'd touched a sensitive subject. He scratched the back of his head as he blurted out an apology.

"I'm...I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"No, no, it's fine," Krystal mitigated, "It's just...nothing, never mind. I can tell you what I've remembered so far."

Fox smiled.

"Please," the StarFox leader said.

Krystal cleared her throat, glancing over at the canvas and looking into Fox's chest as she recited, "Day is done and the sun has set, so hold me close, my love; take my hand and feel my heart, as I take yours in mine...for the nights are black and full of horror."

Fox's tail went limp and he tried to hide his reaction. Krystal didn't need to read his mind this time to know what he was thinking.

"It's...much prettier in the original language," she whispered, "I told you it doesn't translate well."

Fox nodded slowly, trying to think of something to say as Krystal's eyes met his.

"Do you feel it, too?" she asked.

"Feel what?"

"Something wrong," the vixen swallowed.

"You'll have to be more specific than that," Fox said.

Krystal shook her head, her shoulders rising up and down with her breaths.

"It's something I've never felt before," she whispered, "And it's getting close."

Fox wanted to put a hand on her shoulder and tell her it would be okay, but he stopped himself. There was a look in Krystal's eyes at the very thought of it that confirmed it wasn't the best idea.

"We're all here for each other," he said, reasoning that it was better than saying nothing, "We won't let anything bad happen."

Krystal nodded slowly, her eyes looking past Fox into the wall. She held herself as if she was cold.

"I'll meet you on the bridge," he told her.

The vixen breathed out and tried to force a smile, but whatever it was that she sensed seemed to make it more difficult to lie.

She closed herself back in her room and Fox journeyed down the hallway, pressing the call button for the turbolift, hearing it arrive with a bright chirping noise. He stepped into the lift and pressed the button for B Deck, traveling upwards and walking down the hall to the bridge.

The doors slid open and Fox beheld the massive brown-red orb of Titania dominating the viewport, much closer than it had been through the view in Fox's quarters, a section of the ring just visible as a scattered field of brown and white rocky fragments, like the Meteo asteroid field. Peppy and ROB were at their forward control consoles as Falco operated the radar station.

"**Equatorial reference acquired**," ROB said, "**Entering target orbit trajectory**."

Holographic peripherals in front of Peppy's station were copied by the projectors in the ceiling, drawing the ringed globe of Titania in the air before the captain's seat. A yellow circle around Titania appeared with a blinking dot slowly progressing over the curvature of the planet, and a green circle with a blinking winged fox icon was drawn beside it as a smaller model of the planet was shown, as if drawn from the point of view of the _Great Fox _itself with a course of squares marking out the orbital course it should take.

"RCS controls active, decrease thrust by forty percent and prepare for orbit insertion," Peppy muttered, "Falco, how's our surroundings?"

"Nothin'," Falco replied flatly, "Are we there yet?"

"Don't be an ass. What about fragments from the ring structure? They can be as small as an octagon ball and get through the shields."

"I _know _old man, I said we're _clear_," Falco sighed, "Sheesh."

"Roll ninety two degrees, port yaw," Peppy instructed.

"**Affirmative**."

Titania began to shift through the viewport as the _Great Fox _slowly rolled along its axis, the corresponding icons on the holodisplay moving in turn.

"_**Great Fox **_**has achieved stable geosynchronous orbit parallel to target. Target **_**Starghast **_**is 643 kilometers bearing 82 mark 76**," ROB announced.

"Good work, ROB," Peppy nodded, looking over his shoulder to Falco, "You picking it up yet?"

"Just now," the avian replied, "Tha' ship and a smaller one nearby."

"Must be the company ship McMurdo posted to keep an eye on it," Fox remarked, taking a seat in his captain's chair.

"You should just be able to see it soon. Decrease thrust by another thirty percent," Peppy announced, and Fox gazed out over the reddish-brown globe to see a vague, jagged shape in the distance. In a matter of moments, the shape grew bigger and bigger until Fox could make out a profile matching the ship that McMurdo had shown them.

"**Incoming transmission**," ROB said.

"Is it from the _Starghast_?" Fox inquired.

"**Negative. Registry data identifies the source as a Roylott Drive Yards **_**Pulsar-**_**class light courier transport, commissioned **_**Ripley IV**_**. Craft matches the model described in client correspondence****.**"

"Put them through."

The sound system clicked briefly, then a heavy voice came over the comm.

"Freelancer vessel, you are approaching a quarantined ship," the voice informed, "State your intentions immediately."

"_Ripley IV_, this is _Great Fox_," Fox replied, "We've been hired by R. J. McMurdo to investigate the situation on the _Starghast._"

"Hey, StarFox huh?" The voice came back, "They told me to expect someone. God, am I glad to see you guys. Now we can get the hell out of here."

"Have you heard anything from the ship?" Fox questioned.

"You mean besides the same stuff it's been saying for the past _week_? We need your help. Come on in. We have candy. That's about it."

"I think I like this guy," Falco muttered.

"Anything else you can tell us that might help, _Ripley IV_?" Fox said.

"Yeah. The last people to board that ship screamed for a good five minutes before their comms cut out. That thing creeps the shit out of us. Good luck, fellas. _Ripley IV _out."

Fox could see the bright flash of light as a small ship in the distance jumped to warp, winking out far away into the blackness of space before they were even close enough to see it.

He tried to act like that last statement didn't wash over his body like a cloud of freezing rain.

"And with that, we are alone," Peppy respired, "Just us and the ship."

By now, the _Great Fox _had drawn close enough to the _Starghast _that Fox finally began to appreciate its size. While it wasn't as large as an _Ajax-_class battlecarrier or the VNS _Xerxes_, the last ship StarFox had been hired to find, it was at least three if not four times the length of the _Great Fox_. He could make out minute details of the brown-gray ship: The various ridges and outcroppings along the length of the surface, the raised tubes that appeared to be transparisteel-covered walkways over the dorsal surface of the hull, and the tall, antiquated communications tower atop the mound formation towards the stern that Fox assumed housed the ship's bridge. Printed on the side in slightly faded, uniform font, he could see the name STARGHAST. Other than the glowing sublight engines, Fox saw no signs of life or movement from the vast ship.

"Preliminary scans, Peppy?" Fox inquired, shifting his position in the hopes that if he sat the right way, he could overcome the uneasy chill working its way up his tail.

"Nothing unusual. Looks like the reactor's fine. No traces of radiation leakage. The engines are keeping it stable on the same orbit the ship's had for months. Power distribution looks normal...a bit more concentrated around the control tower than I'd expect."

"What about life signs?"

"The ship's hull is a bit dense to get anything specific..." Peppy trailed off, "But it looks like there's _something _alive in there."

"So everything checks out, or at least it _looks _like it does," Fox said, regarding the ship, "Just for the sake of science, let's see what happens when we establish contact. ROB, try to find whatever frequency it's broadcasting out of."

"**One comm frequency found**," the robot replied, "**Establishing transmission**."

The sound system crackled with static, and a long, palpable silence followed as the speakers hummed with white noise. A few moments of quiet passed with Fox, Falco and Peppy looking up at the speakers, waiting for something other than bland hissing. Fox wasn't sure, but it almost sounded like there could be something, just under his ability to hear. No words, no frequency or signal, but something other than just dead air. He closed his eyes and tilted his ears towards the speakers, listening for whatever it could be. There were moments when he thought he might've heard it, only to disregard, then as the seconds went by he slowly grasped it. A very light, very slow rhythm hidden in the white noise, rising up and falling down, rising up and falling down. With his eyes closed and such a gentle up and down rhythm, Fox was reminded of his earlier attempts at meditation, and then he realized why:

It sounded like _breathing_.

Just as he was about to say something, the sound system erupted with a digital tone that startled Fox in his seat, and a banal, clinical voice said, "This is a prerecorded distress signal, ICC correspondence code LV-4262 from Commercial Research Vessel, _Starghast_. Our ship navicomputer and warp drive engine are experiencing technical difficulties beyond the capabilities of on-board staff to repair. Requesting all nearby ships capable of warp to provide assistance at earliest possible convenience. Helix Biotechnology Corporation will compensate you for any expense."

There was another tone, then the transmission went silent again, and Fox called out calmly, "This is the freelancer dreadnaught _Great Fox_, calling CRV _Starghast_, do you read me? Over."

His green eyes locked on the silent ship through the viewport, Fox repeated his hail and he could almost hear his voice echoing out into the stars, unanswered by the cold abyss and the dead world below. He waited for a response, listening to the white noise and trying to decide if he was imagining the sounds of breathing on the other end. The only response was a tone, exactly five minutes after the last one, then the same bland voice announced, "This is a prerecorded distress signal, ICC correspondence code LV-4262 from Commercial Research Vessel, _Starghast_. Our ship navicomputer and warp drive engine are experiencing technical difficulties beyond the capabilities of on-board staff to repair. Requesting all nearby ships capable of warp to provide assistance at the earliest possible convenience. Helix Biotechnology Corporation will compensate you for any expense."

Fox sat back as the tone played again and the transmission went quiet. He tried to listen for the breathing.

"Well, it's not like we actually expected them to say something," Peppy grunted.

"What's tha' next move, Foxie?" Falco inquired.

Fox rested his elbows on his knees and folded his hands together.

"There's only one move left," the vulpine said, "We board the ship. Get Krystal on the intercom and tell her to meet Slippy and I in the _Pleiades_. Download all the data from McMurdo onto the shuttle's computer."

"You got it, boss," the avian replied with a cool smile.

Fox got out of his chair and walked towards the bridge doors, watching them slide open with a hiss. As he was about to walk out, he could just hear the white noise sound still being transmitted to the speakers. It definitely sounded like breathing. He looked over his shoulder, through the viewport at the silent gray-brown ship, listening to the sounds coming from it, as if the _Starghast _itself was breathing, watching, waiting for them to do exactly what Fox said they would do.

Fox swallowed and ignored the tightness in his gut, then turned around and left the bridge.


	3. Dawn of the Dead

**-Dawn of the Dead-**

Waiting in the cockpit of the _Maia_-class shuttle _Pleiades_, grounded in the landing bay forward of the platform elevator that ferried Arwings down to the hangar, Fox was surprised to see Krystal appear before Slippy. Rather than the casual gray outfit she'd been wearing before, the vixen was clad in a suit of silver-colored body armor plating over a black armorweave bodysuit that looked tailored specifically for her. Her head and her tail were the only parts left exposed, and yet she still managed to look quick and graceful. He looked her up and down with a vague smile.

"Slippy made it for me, I've been aching to test it out. It even has a special place for my staff," Krystal explained, turning around to give Fox a full view of the collapsed electrostaff in the holster between her shoulderblades, "He was aiming for a bit more protection than I've had in the past."

"It's almost a shame," Fox smirked, "I've never seen anyone who could wear a bodysuit as well as you."

"Oh, do you miss it, Fox?" Krystal teased, "I can't say I do. It didn't fare so well with stopping Leon's knife."

Fox tried to suppress a frown, along with the memory of Krystal nearly bleeding to death on the _Xerxes _two months ago.

"Expecting much gunfire for this go-around?" he said quietly.

"I don't know _what _to expect," she replied, "But I can feel _something _from that ship and it's nothing good. I'd rather leave as little to chance as possible."

The high-pitched grunting from the short staircase alerted them both, and Slippy emerged from below, maneuvering a hover trolley loaded with equipment into the room. He'd changed out of his regular yellow jumpsuit into a blue flightsuit under a white StarFox jacket with multiple pockets and pouches, still sporting a red and yellow cap between his enormous eyeballs. His green skin glistened with more sweat than usual.

"A little…help would've been nice," Slippy moaned, shoving the trolley towards the side.

"Sorry. Next time try saying something," Fox shrugged as Slippy pursed his lips in aggravation, "Got some toys for us?"

The amphibian nodded and held up a pair of shortened blaster rifles with slender barrels, passing them to Fox and Krystal.

"They've got under-barrel flashlights, I thought it was a good idea," Slippy explained, "Three shot burst fire, no automatic function. I doubt we'll really need them, but you never know."

Fox slung the rifle around his shoulder by the canvas strap, flicking the flashlight under the barrel on and off, then checking the ammo counter and reading a full capacity of five hundred shots. He looked over to Slippy fitting a pilot's headset around the back of his massive cranium, then grabbing a thick gray headband and a headset identical to the type that Fox usually wore.

"I've been working on these for a while," Slippy explained, handing the headband to Krystal and the headset to Fox, "They're more tactical versions of the headset with an internal holocam that'll let Peppy see what we see. Also lets us seamlessly share data that we find and upload it to the _Great Fox_. I've already downloaded schematics of the _Starghast _along with the data McMurdo sent to us."

Fox accepted the headset and slipped it over the back of his skull, feeling the padding automatically tighten securely into place. He adjusted the microphone over his mouth and with a light clicking sound a green scouter extended around his right eye. Krystal slipped the headband on just in front of her ears, brushing locks of violet-blue hair out of her eyes. Slippy drew their attention to a set of three transparent breath masks, two snout-shaped to fit a vulpine muzzle, a third larger and more like a gas bag to accommodate Slippy's wide amphibian maw.

"These should protect us from any airborne bacteria or viruses that might be causing the contamination on the ship," Slippy said, putting the masks back down on the pile, "I just replaced the filtration systems, so they'll be good for as long as we need them."

"What about these other gizmos?" Krystal said, drawing closer to the remaining assortment of equipment.

"I've got Fox's reflector device; managed to increase the field capacity so that it can absorb and redirect greater force," Slippy replied, handing Fox a gray hexagonal device with a dull blue central button, "The rest of this stuff is for me. Diagnostic tools, upgrades for my data assistant, basic stuff to help me do my job. Biology and life sciences aren't my strong suit; I'll have to rely mostly on stuff like this omnigraphic analyzer and sending data over to ROB to determine the nature of the contamination."

"And the apoptosis program?" Fox inquired, clipping his reflector to his belt.

Slippy rolled his enormous blue eyes and produced a silver and green pill-shaped object about the size of a soda can, with a tiny square button in the center.

"I fashioned a smaller version of the design out of a nanocorrosion grenade we had in the armory, just for you. Functions the same way as the Self-Destruct Program, except on a smaller scale," Slippy intoned, attaching the device to the belt over his flight suit, "Just in case we run into any Aparoid Queens."

"You don't think there's anything to worry about?" Krystal probed.

The frog's shoulders slumped and he turned the palms of his hands upward.

"It's science," Slippy concluded, "The Queen was the source of all Aparoid will; when we infected her with the program it didn't just drive them extinct, it destroyed their ability to exist as a species. Even if the core memory they were studying contained viable Aparoid nanites, they couldn't be dangerous without some central source as a foundation for their hive mind. Like I said, it can't be the Aparoids."

"I hope you're right," Fox said, "I really do."

"I don't see any _other _technical geniuses in the room, Fox, so for lack of another informed opinion I'm betting that I am," Slippy retorted with a broad, saucy smile.

Krystal snorted and Fox put his tongue into his cheek, supposing that he deserved it for his previous curt behavior towards the amphibian. Krystal and Slippy buckled into two of the six passenger seats lining the wall as Fox sidled into the pilot's chair, doing checks on the engine systems of the _Pleiades _before firing them up with the press of a button. Instrument readouts lit up on screens in front of Fox, his headset scouter displaying a flight heads-up display as the five engines grumbled to life.

"_Great Fox_, shuttle three-four-niner _Pleiades _conducting final departure check," Fox said into his microphone, running his eyes over the control panels, "Instruments…in the green, engine status nominal. Request guided launch with tractor beam assist."

"**Shuttle three-four-niner, **_**Great Fox**_**, you are cleared for guided launch**," ROB-64 came in over Fox's headset, "**Initiate dust-off**."

"Copy, _Great Fox_."

The metal floors of the shuttle shivered almost imperceptibly as the repulsorlifts engaged and the ship's undercarriage floated off the landing bay surface.

"Landing gear retracted," Fox muttered, keeping his focus on the controls to avoid hitting the sides of the landing bay. Even for an expert pilot, when one tried to back a medium-sized shuttle out of a landing bay made for starfighters, accidents could happen.

"By the way, Slippy," Krystal said, her rate of speech starting out slow then gaining speed the way it did when she was trying to take her mind off something, "Have you talked to Amanda recently? I wanted to say how much I enjoyed our outing together. It's been too long since I've had a bit of girl time."

"She enjoyed it, too!" Slippy beamed, "I talked to her the other day. She said she loved telling you about anything that was unfamiliar, and that she never knew how much everyday stuff she took for granted until you hung out. She really wants to get Peppy's daughter Lucy together so you three can have one big girl's night out."

"Oh, that…sounds great."

"**Tractor beam lock secure, commencing extraction sequence**," ROB reported in Fox's ear, and he reclined back in the chair. The ship shuddered in the grip of the _Great Fox_'s tractor beam, and through the cockpit's viewport he saw the white walls and bright lights of the landing bay edge away.

"There was a moment when I feared I'd made a mistake," Krystal remarked, "We were clothes shopping and she asked me to model these pink outfits. They weren't made for amphibians and she wanted to see how they looked. I told her pink wasn't really my color. She appeared shocked. Or insulted."

"If it's pink, Amanda wants it," Slippy quipped, "If it doesn't come in her size, or if it was made for someone with fur instead of skin that constantly sweats, she can't understand why anyone wouldn't wear it if they could. Did she tell you the story about picking out her wedding dress?"

"The one where she fought with your mother over the color?" Krystal said, "Or the one about the bridal shop throwing her out?"

"Its…kind of both actually," Slippy chuckled, "They're just parts of one big, cringe-inducing story. All because she wanted some designer dress from Oceana instead of some place on Aquas."

"The manner she described it, your mother was being hyper-traditional and the shops in Oceana were speciesist."

"My mother _is _hyper-traditional, at least when it comes to her _baby's wedding_. The bride's dress is supposed to be coral and blue and the groom is supposed to wear brown and green, since Aquan weddings are all about the union of land and sea or whatever. My mom was not about to accept an all-pink wedding dress," Slippy elaborated, "And the bridal shops weren't speciesist. They were high-end designer places that made dresses with _Cornerians _in mind. Cornerian females size six and under. Just because they don't have a department for every species from every planet like a Buy 'N Large store doesn't mean they're racists. It means they're your typical snooty designer fashion place."

By this point, Fox was able to see the edges of the landing bay's trapezoidal opening, slipping away from the viewport as the white tail section of the _Great Fox _towered overhead. It took a few more seconds for the arrowhead nose of the shuttle to clear the landing bay opening.

"**Three-four-niner **_**Pleiades**_**, extraction sequence complete. Assume manual control and port yaw ninety degrees before commencing sublight burn**."

"She…really likes pink, doesn't she?" Krystal remarked, in a tone that communicated to Fox that she didn't know what else to say.

"That she does," Slippy returned flatly.

Black, infinite space stretched forth from the _Pleiades' _viewport as the shuttle swung outwards from its mother ship, the scabby brown-red globe of Titania forming the closest thing Fox had to a horizon.

"_Pleiades _is away," Fox said, "Commencing primary burn."

The shuttle produced a low growl and slid forward through the abyss. Krystal and Slippy ran out of things to say, and the silence felt as cold and isolating as the lifeless vacuum through the window. Uneasy things returned to Fox's mind. The unexplainable dread from his first sighting of Titania. Krystal's perception of some encroaching indeterminate wrongness. Sounds of breathing from the silent ship.

Then the shuttle glided over the _Great Fox_'s upper wing, and there was the _Starghast_. Long and metallic like a toppled mechanical monolith, the faded name on the side read like the epitaph on a tombstone. _The last people to board that ship screamed for a good five minutes..._

The Aparoids, with all their might, had never inspired this kind of fear. Wasn't that the worst case scenario, the Aparoids coming back from the dead? Unless something even worse awaited them on that ship. His mind wandered to dark possibilities, and Fox gave his head a quick shake, trying to swallow his anxiety. He was Fox McCloud. He'd saved the whole Lylat System more than once. Fear wasn't a thing he was supposed to feel anymore.

_It's just another contract_, he reassured.

"Slippy. How many access routes do we have?" Fox inquired, tilting his head back towards the amphibian.

Slippy activated the data assistant mounted on his wrist, which drew a holographic model of the _Starghast _in the air behind Fox's seat. A much smaller version appeared in his scouter, in the corner above the flight heads-up display.

"Two main entrances," Slippy remarked, "A forward landing bay and a docking ring a deck above that can accommodate the _Pleiades_."

"And what about the teams that disappeared? How'd they get in?"

"Looks like they both used the landing bay."

"I vote for a different strategy," Fox said, "Where's the docking ring?"

"Starboard side, the cylindrical bow section," Slippy informed, highlighting the location on the hologram, mirroring it on his scouter.

Fox glanced at the location on the model and scanned the ship through the viewport, guiding the _Pleiades _along the side of the hull. The _Starghast _grew larger and jagged as they got close, their small shuttle dwarfed by the imposing hulk. A hull of bold ridges and brown metal slid by, and the bow section Fox was looking for drew near. He typed the docking sequence into the control panel and saw a new display with a circular locking mechanism appear on a screen. Though the _Pleiades _was equipped with an airlock and a boarding ramp that extended from the bottom of the ship when it landed on a flat surface, a docking ring above the rounded cockpit allowed the ship to connect to the airlock of any standard vessel or space station that lacked the luxury of a hangar bay. The closed, bottleneck entrance into the ship also made the shuttle easier to defend than if they were to touch down in the hangar, something that Fox took small comfort in.

Twisting the control yoke, the _Pleiades _rolled ninety degrees towards the hull of the _Starghast_, then Fox decreased thrust from the main engines and activated the reaction control system joystick. Taking his hands off the main controls, making course corrections using the RCS joystick, Fox guided the _Pleiades _against the side of the ship, an icon flashing in the docking sequence display to tell him the _Starghast_'s airlock was in range. He made a few minute adjustments, lining the icon up with the locking mechanism on the display, then he pressed a button on the control panel and heard a loud, echoing thump sound as the two ships coupled.

Fox turned and rose out of the pilot's seat as a ladder extended from the ceiling, revealing a heavy circular docking ring door above.

"Masks," Fox muttered, "Let's get ready."

They slipped on the breath masks, Slippy's going on like a transparent bubble below his eyes as Fox and Krystal's slipped over their muzzles, held snugly in place by a strap over the backs of their necks. There was pressure on his cheekbones as the mask sealed to his face and he breathed in lukewarm, sterile air.

"Peppy," Fox said into his headset, "Can you hear me?"

"And see you, Fox," Peppy's voice came back, "Loud and clear. I've got Slippy and Krystal's feeds as well. Everyone looks good."

Fox nodded as Slippy finished loading up the belt and pouches in his flightsuit and Team StarFox jacket with equipment, grabbing a MacTech XR-12 automatic blaster pistol and slipping it into a holster at his side. Both Krystal and Fox cocked the safeties off their blaster rifles, then all three of them looked up at the ladder and the airlock door.

"I'll lead," Fox told them quietly, "Be ready for the change in artificial gravity from the shuttle to the _Starghast_, or else you'll fall on your face."

He let his blaster rifle hang by the strap over his shoulder, then he grabbed onto the ladder and climbed. The metal rungs were cold, uncomfortably so, and as Fox made his way to the top he could see the green indicator light on the docking ring door, glowing to signify a pressurized atmosphere on the other side. It was the furthest guarantee of safety he was going to get. He gripped the release handle, twisting it clockwise and pushing inwards, and the door opened with a hiss of releasing air. Fox pushed up and the door swung on its hinge, and at the end of the short tunnel above he could see the light of dim glowlamps.

He reached slowly upwards, feeling the electric, tugging sensation as his arm was gripped by the artificial gravity of the _Starghast_, while the rest of his body was still held in the _Pleiades_' simulated gravity field. It was a similar feeling to a cramp, or his arm falling asleep. He carefully pushed the rest of his body up, stepping on the top rungs of the ladder, and a wave of dizziness swept over Fox as his body perceived that what used to be forward was now downward. He dragged himself by the handholds in the small tunnel, his feet leaving the ladder, and suddenly Fox was lying on his chest. The dizziness passed after a few seconds, and he crawled down the tunnel on his stomach, falling out into a small, featureless room with dim brownish glowpanels and a heavy airlock door.

He came to his feet and dusted himself off, and Slippy soon emerged from the tunnel behind him, dropping to the floor in a heap. The amphibian stood up with a grimace visible through the bubble of his breath mask, squeezing his hands into fists and muttering, "I _hate _competing gravitational syndrome."

Slippy stood aside and Krystal came through the tunnel, picking herself up as Fox took a breath of filtered air from his mask.

"So here we are," Krystal remarked, looking over the thick door into the rest of the ship, "What do we do now?"

"Yeah," Fox said, turning to Slippy, "Shouldn't something be happening?"

Slippy gazed around the room, scrutinizing the dim glowpanel.

"Normally the airlock is supposed to open on its own," Slippy remarked, "But it looks like it might be-"

"WELCOME TO COMMERCIAL RESEARCH VESSEL _STARGHAST!_ A Helix Biotech venture," A recorded female voice announced cheerily as the glowlamps burned a brilliant white, startling them so that all three jerked in surprise.

"Shit," Fox chuckled, shaking his head as the recorded voice continued and white fog hissed into the room.

"You are about to enter one of the Lylat System's premier biotechnology research facilities, formulating new developments in agriculture, medicine, genetic therapy and nanotechnology. As such, decontamination procedures are necessary," the voice informed pleasantly as a scanning laser swept back and forth over their bodies, "Additionally, no outside food, beverages or unauthorized life forms are permitted to enter this facility. Firearms, illegal substances, and other contraband are also strictly prohibited on CRV _Starghast_. "

"Can we skip this thing?" Fox wondered.

"Best to just let it run its course," Slippy said, "If we try to bypass it the ship's security systems might freak out. We don't want to draw any more attention than we have to, right?"

"Good point."

The scanning laser went dark and the fog began to dissipate, and Fox held his blaster rifle in his arms.

"Your decontamination procedure is complete and you are now free to enter the ship. Please note that unauthorized personnel are not permitted in the labs or other restricted areas. For further instruction, please consult our security staff. Once more, welcome to the CRV _Starghast_. Have a nice day," the feminine voice concluded, her final words dropping to a low and almost sultry tone.

Then there was a mechanical grinding sound and the heavy doors slid open, the clean white glowpanels flickering back to their original faded brown as a dark corridor of gray metal and russet pipes stretched before them. Even with the image enhancement function on his headset scouter, Fox could see maybe six meters down the hall before the shadows proved impenetrable. He flicked on the flashlight under the barrel of his rifle and Krystal followed suit, casting twin cones of pale light into the darkness. Slippy produced a glowrod that blushed with its own yellow hue, and they stepped through the doorway with a heavy tapping of their boots on the metal. A shroud of dismal cold oozed over Fox's fur as they entered the _Starghast_, and he was thankful that he'd worn his jacket.

"Peppy, what's with the glowpanels?" Fox inquired, sweeping his flashlight over the bulkheads, "I thought you said power distribution was normal."

"That's what the scans said," Peppy returned, "The ship has power in all areas, something else must be keeping the lights off."

"And tampering with the climate controls," Krystal added, "Its like Fichina in here."

"Maybe the crew was trying to kill the contaminants that way," Slippy mused, "Most virulent pathogens can't thrive in cold temperatures."

"Can you learn anything from the air, Slip?" Fox inquired, shining his light down a left fork in the corridor before continuing forward.

"Hold on a second," Slippy piped, holding the glowrod under his armpit as he produced a thick black cylindrical object from his belt. The amphibian twisted the object and a section of the cylinder pivoted outwards to make a ninety degree angle, then he pressed a button and a holographic interface window flashed over the space within the angle. The omnigraphic analyzer was the scientist's ultimate field tool, able to analyze small samples of just about any material, gas or tissue with nearly the same versatility of a lab full of equipment. At that moment, the projected interface window read "Atmospheric Spectrometer/Aerosol-Particulate Scan", and the amphibian held the device up, turning around and walking a step or two in random directions as lines of text and data appeared on the screen.

"Hmmm," the frog muttered, his bulbous blue eyes scanning the screen.

"Find anything interesting?" Krystal prompted, her posh voice muffled into a hollow tone. The harsh shadows cast by their flashlights made it look like there was something wrong with her face, and Fox almost gasped in alarm before he realized it was just her breath mask.

"There's nothing," Slippy remarked, "_That's _what's interesting. The air's perfectly breathable, no toxic or unknown gas present. The scanner can't detect any airborne particles, bacteria or viruses. Oxygen content's a little high, indicates less of the crew around to breathe it in. Whatever infected the ship, it's not in the air. We can take the masks off."

The holoscreen flickered away and Slippy folded the analyzer up, clipping it back onto his belt as they reached up to their faces and detached their breath masks, securing them to their belts or in pouches on their clothes. The cold air was stale, recycled, and slightly stung his wet nose with every breath. They continued down the corridor past various turns and exits, their footsteps echoing emptily through the silent hallway as the corridor curved to the left.

"What part of the ship are we in?" Fox inquired, shadows dancing as he swept his light over the bulkheads.

"According to the schematics, we're near a suite of company offices and telemetry hardware for the landing bay, further on down there's some personnel dormitor—wh—whoa!" Slippy replied, his voice rising with shock as his boots stumbled over the metal floor.

"What?" Fox demanded, turning around to see Slippy wide-eyed with his glowrod pointed down a branching corridor.

"It...it was nothing," he sighed with a shake of his head, gulping and resting a hand on his breast, "I thought I saw something down there. Scared myself half to death."

"Ya know, I've always wondered about that expression," Falco said over the comlink, "If ya' get scared half to death twice, do ya' die?"

"Come off it," Krystal derided, her hard cyan eyes softened by a concerned wrinkling of her brow.

"What? It's a valid question. My life might depend on it."

"Shut up, Falco."

Fox looked over at her, the harsh shadows making her beautiful face haggard. She was looking almost at the ceiling, but not really looking at anything at all.

"What's wrong?" Fox inquired.

"I can sense it again," Krystal whispered, her eyes still distant, "It's almost familiar...but different."

"Something on the ship? Is it an Aparoid?" Fox queried.

The vixen slowly shook her head.

"I've never felt anything like it," she murmured, "Its...imagine being swallowed whole by a monster. And the monster can feel you moving inside of it. It knows we're here."

Slippy frowned, a film of fresh sweat glistening on his skin.

"Come on, guys," Fox said, "Keep moving."

They continued down the corridor, their lights sweeping over the walls, and as they came to a circular junction with four tributary corridors branching off, Fox noticed distinctive black markings in the gray metal bulkheads, scattered but becoming more frequent. They looked around the juncture, the flashlights on their rifles exposing dozens upon dozens more of the large black stains peppering the walls, and Krystal was the quickest to call it out.

"Blaster fire," she remarked, narrowing her eyes at the scorch marks all around.

"Looks like explosives damage over here," Slippy added, shining his glowrod onto a twisted and collapsed group of ceiling piping in one of the corridor openings.

"A firefight," Fox muttered, "Or a last stand. From the scattered fire, it looks like they panicked."

"Like they couldn't see the enemy?" Slippy inquired.

"More likely, they were surrounded."

"If that's the case, where's the blood?" Peppy said over the comlink, "What about the bodies?"

"Asked as if I had a clue," Fox returned.

"And then there's this door over here..." Krystal announced from behind.

Fox turned and swung his light through the darkness, Krystal visible down a short passageway terminating in a large, angular blast door. Her face was drawn close to the door's surface, the light from her rifle casting the grooves into harsh relief. Fox couldn't be sure what she was looking at until he and Slippy drew closer: a series of deep, thin gashes in the thick metal, concentrated heavily around the seam in the middle where the two halves of the door met. Krystal ran her fingertips over the gashes, which were deep and broad enough to fit her fingertips themselves.

"What do you suppose made these?" she remarked, looking at Fox with concern.

"Some kind of vibroblade, maybe?" Fox said, "Diamond-tipped saw? Someone trying to cut through the door, not very successfully?"

"They look like _claw-marks_," Slippy hissed, his mouth dry.

Fox gave the amphibian a quizzical look.

"What kind of animal can do this to durasteel?" he posited, "And what's it doing on this ship?"

"Just calling it like I see it..."

"They're notclaw-marks," Fox said, to reassure himself as well as Slippy, "That wouldn't make any sense. _You're _supposed to be the scientist, remember?"

"The door's not responding," Krystal announced, typing commands into a control panel on the wall, "Looks like it's been hacked."

"Can you run a bypass?" Fox asked, and Slippy nodded, moving over to the control panel with his data assistant held close.

Slippy went to work, manipulating the holographic interfaces projected by his data assistant, and Fox's eyes met Krystal's. The strong blue eyes were alive with tension, her mouth slightly open as breaths issued out of her lips. She was still troubled by something she could hardly describe. He glanced down the corridor, shining his light through empty space as far as he could see. There was nothing.

"I got it," Slippy announced, and a second later the doors slid open with a slow grinding of metal.

Their lights swept into the wide, carpeted room, landing on a haphazard assortment of fitness machines, free weights and chairs piled against what appeared to be a door on the other side.

"Looks like it used to be a weight room or something," Fox remarked, taking a step into the room, then something black and powerful traveled up his nose and made him recoil with a scowl.

"Oh God, that smell!" Slippy gagged, stepping away from the doorway. They all knew what the smell was, that stifling sulfurous stench that had accompanied the darkest moments of their lives. The smell of death, of rot and decay.

Holding a hand up to his nose, breathing through his mouth to minimize the amount he had to smell even though he could almost _taste _it, Fox stepped forward and swept his flashlight over the corners of the room, finding nothing until he caught a glimpse of something brown and green near the floor to his right. He scanned back to find it again. The brown object had been a boot, connected to a leg clothed in green uniform pants.

"Casualty," Fox reported, guiding his flashlight over the body slouched in the corner.

It was a canine, a brown-furred male Labrador, and looked as if it had been dead for at least a week. The dark fur on the body was matted as if it had been drenched with sweat, and the skin underneath was bloated and gray. The eyes, glassy and milked over by decay, stared up at the ceiling as a yellow custard substance oozed out from beneath the lids. His jaws were open wide in a silent scream, the tongue swollen limp over white teeth. Below the chin there appeared to be another mouth, smiling wide and red where his neck should've been, the chest of his green uniform drenched in dried blood.

Fox held down a gag and looked over the uniform, making out a blood-caked Helix Biotech Security patch with an obscured name on the breast.

"...Looks like he was with one of the rescue teams," Fox grunted, trying to endure the smell, "Someone cut his throat open."

"Fox..." Krystal murmured, "In his right hand."

He guided his flashlight over to the cadaver's arm, resting limp and gnarled on the floor. Clasped tightly in stiff fingers, crusted thick with reddish-brown, was a vibroknife with a partially serrated edge.

Fox swallowed and felt something heavy in his chest, and none of them could think of something to say.

"He cut his own throat..." Peppy said hoarsely through the comm, "Why would he do that?"

Fox turned around and swept his light over the pile of fitness equipment propped against the door.

"They barricaded the door," he said, "Krystal, help me move this stuff."

The two went to work, deconstructing the barricade with grunts and heaves of effort, working together to heft the loads too big for just one of them.

"Umm...guys?"

"Yeah?" Fox grunted, tossing a barbell to the carpeted floor with a heavy thump.

"Why are we trying to get _through_ that?" Slippy whimpered, "I mean, this guy probably helped build it to keep something _out_."

"He's been dead for weeks, Slip. Whatever it was is gone now. Plus we have guns."

"So did he!" Slippy chirped, picking up a discarded blaster carbine on the floor, "It's not even _empty_, Fox. His friends had guns too, what happened to them?"

Fox sighed and looked the amphibian in the eyes. The composure and scientific skepticism that he'd shown in the shuttle had vanished, his blue eyes wet and turgid with fear as his green skin glistened with cold sweat. He reminded himself to be strong for his friend. A cool head on Fox's part could keep Slippy from losing his. It was a tall order right now, with Fox struggling to contain his own anxiety.

"It's just a dead body, Slippy," Fox said calmly, "That's all it is so far. You've seen worse. We all have. We've still got a job to do."

Slippy breathed in and out a few times, nodding frenziedly and trying to calm himself as Fox and Krystal cleared the way. A few moments later, the floor was scattered with heavy fitness equipment and the door was clear. He ordered Slippy to perform another bypass, and as the amphibian went to work Fox noted the strange, faint lumps in the surface of the door, as if something heavy on the other side had been rammed into the metal.

"Okay, I'm through," Slippy reported, "You sure you want me to open this?"

"Yes," Fox replied, bathing the door in light as he leveled his rifle forwards.

"Everything will be fine, Slippy," Krystal murmured unevenly, "You're safe with us."

Fox looked at Krystal and she looked at Fox, and both knew there was no way to promise that.

Slippy's face contorted and he flinched away from the door, pressing a button on his data assistant. With a mechanical whine the doors slid open and their lights pierced the darkness of the room. A new stench hit them, something sour, pestilential and wrong, and Fox moved his face as though struck. He forced himself look through the doorway, holding his flashlight forward, and as unsettled dust danced in its shining Fox said nothing.

"_Khanshe_," Krystal gasped in hissing Cerinian.

The small room of lockers and showers had once been covered in white tile, but almost any trace of white had been encrusted with sticky red black that covered the walls and rows of lockers collapsed like dominoes. The floor was covered too, dark and dried in some areas while other parts were soggy with collected puddles. Fox had never seen so much in his life. There was blood on the _ceiling_.

"What _is _that?" Slippy shuddered, the light of his glowrod shining on a glistening mass of twisted, bony appendages near the end of the room. Fox took a slow step forward, his boot sinking into the encrusted carnage like mud, glancing around for anything else that might be in the room as he made his way towards the body, the offensive stench growing stronger. It was acid and almost sweet like vomit, mixing with the shit-smell of rotting flesh in a pungent cocktail that made the fur on his tail stand on end. Every instinct told him to turn back. Fox leveled his flashlight at the body, the light casting deformed shadows on the soiled walls, and even after looking closely he found it hard to describe.

The head was caked in dried blood and a glistening slime of some sort, the skin stretched taut over the skull, lips pulling away from clenched teeth. From the horns curling around the back of it's head, Fox guessed that it was a ram, or at least it used to be. The eyes were bulging out unnaturally, as if meaning to escape from the sockets. As Fox's eyes traveled down the length of the body, things got less familiar. The asymmetrical shoulders were far too wide, leading into long and twisted limbs with one more pivot point than there should've been. One of the arms divided in two like the branch of a tree, ending in a pair of gnarled hands at the end of the same limb. Its chest was split open from breast to groin, the ribcage protruding long and sharp more like teeth lining an enormous mouth. The soft, green intestinal coils were shriveled and masticated as if the ribs were _gnawing _on them. A malformed arm protruded from each hip, ending in three fingered, claw tipped hands. The legs were warped and folded in a manner closer to featherless wings or crab's legs. His boot squished into something soft, and Fox looked around to see pink, purplish-veined tendrils spread out from the body like roots from a tree, wrapped around a nearby bench and digging into the floor.

The smell was strongest here. The sour vomit and rotting flesh bouquet was joined by a third smell, smoky and acrid. The charred, blackened areas of flesh told Fox that someone had tried to burn this creature, whatever it was.

"My God," Peppy whispered over the headset, "What the hell happened here?"

"Slippy," Fox called.

"Yeah?" the amphibian replied timidly from the doorway.

"Come in here and look at this," he instructed, "Get a sample or something, let's find out what this thing is."

"You want me to get close to it?"

"Yes. Now," Fox said firmly, "Please."

The amphibian swallowed and waddled slowly into the room, coming to a stop before he was halfway there to retch and hold back vomit from the smell. He made the rest of the journey, taking out a scalpel and a tiny clear rectangular capsule. Crouching down near the body, Slippy held a hand over his nose and his shoulders rose and fell with every nervous breath.

"I'm...I don't know where to start."

"Just look at it. What do you _see?_" Fox interrogated, his green eyes locking onto a square hole in the ceiling. There wasn't much, but the twisted pieces of grating left told him that it used to be a ventilation cover. Something had burst through it.

"Umm... it's an aries, sex...indeterminate," Slippy mumbled, "It's suffered some sort of mutation, or recombinant genetic manipulation. The sites on the body where the bone penetrates the flesh, or the skin is clearly ruptured shows that the transformation was very rapid and traumatic, generating a lot of heat. Bones broke apart and formed new configurations. The blood boiled and broke through the skin in several major vessels, indicates that however long the creature was alive, it didn't rely on a circulatory system, or at least the one it had...originally. A tissue sample's really the best bet here."

"Is it safe to touch?" Fox inquired.

Slippy drew away from the mangled corpse, scalpel in hand with an unpleasant look on his face.

"I don't know enough to say for certain right now, but what do you think?" Slippy retorted, "Does it _look _safe to touch?"

Fox took a breath and stepped away from Slippy, watching him scratch a sliver of flesh from one of the creature's limbs and smear it into the small capsule. He closed the capsule and rose to his feet.

"Can I get out of this room now?" Slippy demanded quietly. Fox nodded and beckoned him back into the room with the dead body that was at least recognizable. They closed and sealed the door behind them, and Slippy opened the omnigraphic analyzer back up, inserting the capsule into a slot in the device. This time, the heading on the projected interface window read "Cellular Microscope/Tissue Analysis". A collection of shriveled, globular objects appeared on the screen, and Slippy's blue eyes narrowed as his mouth turned downwards.

"That's weird," he said breathlessly.

"What?" Krystal inquired.

"It's just...a collection of skin cells. I can make out keratinocytes, melanocytes, epithelial cells, everything you'd expect...in a normal person," he swallowed.

"You don't see anything strange?" Fox inquired, "No Aparoid nanites? What about the contamination?"

"It looks pretty obvious that that _thing _in there was contaminated, but so far I can't determine how. In Aparoid assimilation, the nanites would convert the host cells into Aparoid cell structures. That's not happening here. I don't see any nanites. The cellular nuclei are denser than I'd expect, but other than that...everything seems normal," Slippy told him, "They don't even look that necrotic, for how long it must've been dead."

"So what are we dealing with here?" Fox interrogated.

"I don't know. This is something different. Something we haven't se—woah!"

"What?!" Fox and Krystal demanded in unison.

"You both saw that, right?" Slippy prompted.

"What were we supposed to see?"

"Just watch," Slippy told them, showing the collection of cells on the screen.

"What are we looking for?" Fox muttered, and suddenly Slippy gestured at one of the cells, gesticulating, "There!"

On the screen, one of the cells trembled and pulsated slightly before stretching itself longways, tugging against its own body. After a few seconds, the cell split apart into two new entities.

"That," Slippy said, his eyes wide with confusion, "Cellular mitosis."

"And what does that mean?" Fox inquired.

"That's not supposed to happen on a _corpse_, Fox!" Slippy snapped, "That thing in there...it's cells. They're still alive."

Fox's jaw went limp, his heart paused, and suddenly it wasn't the cold that was making him shiver.

"Fox, get out of there now," Peppy ordered, "I don't like this."

"How do you think I feel?" Fox demanded as a shuddering whurr echoed through the ship and the glowpanels buzzed to life before going dark again. Emergency lighting flashed on, bathing the room in a dim red glow.

They all looked at the ceiling.

"Power surge," Slippy murmured.

"Back to the shuttle," Fox barked, "Move!"

They took off down the corridor, boots pounding into the metal and their flashlight beams bouncing over the walls. Geysers of whitish gas were jetting out of vents in the ceiling, the temperature was rapidly becoming hotter and even with their flashlights and the crimson glowlamps it was getting hard to see through the haze.

"Faster! Double time, we're almost there!" Fox shouted, clenching his teeth as they stormed down the hall.

"Fox! What's going on in there?!" Peppy snapped over the comm.

"We're going to the shuttle!"

"You're not _on _it?!"

"Why?!"

"The docking ring just released," the rabbit came back, "The shuttle's disconnected, it's floating through space!"

"WHAT?" Fox snarled as they skidded to a stop in the middle of the corridor, between a branching turn to the left and the right.

"_Shianta,_" Krystal whispered, her cyan eyes wide.

"Oh God. Oh God, there's no way out," Slippy stammered.

"Calm down," Fox chided, "The ship's right outside. So is Falco and the Arwings."

"But we're trapped in _here_!" Slippy squealed, his eyes moist.

"Stop it. Get your gun out _now_," Fox snapped, his jaw clenched tight. He looked over to Krystal. Behind her strong, gemlike eyes, he could see the fear, reflected back at him. A twitching tingle slithered up Fox's tail, working it's way up his spine, and he tried to control his breathing.

Hoarse, rattling moans echoed through the dark hallways, unnatural wails that belonged to no creature Fox had ever heard. Hollow rumbling traveled through the metal at their feet, a nonspecific warning that things were _coming_.

"Take position up ahead, past these two junctions," Fox commanded, moving them into position, "Slippy, cover the rear. Krystal, eye on the left flank."

"Oh Lyla. Fox! Now I _know _I saw something," Slippy cried, "Just past the end of that corridor."

"Saw _what?_"

"I—I don—don't know. It was big."

"Like _what_, a person?!" Fox bellowed.

"I don't think it was a _person_, Fox..."

"What are you talking about?! Get a grip!"

"Fox," Krystal gasped, "There."

He looked down the corridor in front of them, shining his light through the dim scarlet glow. He heard it before he saw it. The limping, stumbling steps across the metal floors, slow but getting louder. The silhouette appeared in his flashlight beam, veiled in the white steam that poured from vents in the wall: pointed ears, lanky and fragile, with a tail that reached down to knee-level. A feline.

"Hold your fire, looks like a civvie," Fox instructed, clearing his throat and calling out, "It's okay! Are you injured? We're here to help."

There was no answer from the figure limping their way. Fox could barely make out more than just her outline.

"The company sent us! Can you tell us what happened here? Are you infected?" Fox called. The figure had no reply, shuffling towards them in silence. She was getting close enough for Fox to see details of her...was there something on her face?

"Fox..." Krystal whispered in dread.

"Stop right there! Don't come any...closer..." Fox trailed off as his eyes grew wide, disbelieving, "Oh fuck..."

The figure stepped into Fox's light. There was nothing on her face.

Half of it was missing.


	4. Resident Evil

**-Resident Evil-**

The cat stood there, naked with stained pale fur and a shredded maroon gape where her lower jaw used to be. She stared at them with blank white eyes as the three gawked speechlessly. Her bloated tongue quivered and she gurgled, raising her arms and stumbling towards them with a howl. Krystal was the first to react.

"SHOOT HER!" she barked, the corridor pulsing with green and blue as their blasters opened fire. The cat squealed and convulsed as blaster bolts tore into her, throwing her against the bulkhead. She hit the metal floor with a wet slapping sound, and the corridor went quiet under the scarlet glow of the emergency lights.

Fox realized just how hard he was breathing, and tried to steady his heartbeat as a dark puddle slowly spread out from the body.

"What tha' fuck was that?!" Falco shouted over the comm.

"Is it dead?" Krystal choked.

"Looks dead," Fox replied.

"It looked pretty dead a few seconds ago, that didn't stop it from walking around!" Slippy cried, "I am _not _touching that."

"I never said you had to," Fox retorted, trying to keep his voice calm.

"Let's just get out of here, screw the contract! Find a way to get the shuttle back here an—OH GOD!"

Fox whipped back around, his flashlight offering him glimpses of the feline's arm pushing up against the floor, the head raising up as the tongue lashed out impossibly long, a bulb at the tip opening with rows of teeth. They drew back, flashlight beams darting across the walls, firing blindly as the tendril whipped and snapped over their screams. Fox dared to look back and saw in the flailing light the feline seize and moan as limbs and hands twisted and rearranged with a crunch of bone, blood spewing out as writhing tentacles sprouted and new mouths chewed their way from beneath the skin. The lashing tongue with its toothed bulb came free of the body with a visceral snap, slithering after them down the hall, and as much as they fired at it it just kept coming.

Feet pounding into the metal, lights darting wildly over the bulkheads as they sprinted breathlessly through the haze, Fox could barely hear anything over the pounding of his heart in his ears. They came to a T-junction, whipping around and aiming back down the way they'd come, but their flashlights revealed nothing moving towards them through the scarlet murk, they heard no snapping of teeth or crunching of bones being re-set. The sound they heard was all around, wrenching hollow moans of twisted things haunting the halls of the _Starghast_. Whitish gas erupted from vents in the ceiling, the howling seeming to come from all three directions, and as the floor beneath them trembled with heavy movement Fox could smell the sweet-vomit stench from before.

"There!" Slippy shouted, and Fox saw the shapes coming down the corridor to his right, shrouded in the haze of white mist and red emergency lights: contorted figures with stretched arms and whipping tendrils, galloping, slithering, or skittering on crablike legs, impossible to tell at this distance where one ended and another began. Their howls and gurgles and moans rattled up the corridor at them, and the blaster rifle in Fox's hands felt pitifully fragile against the advancing horde. Turning around and sprinting down the corridor the opposite way, Fox could hear Slippy crying out as he fired blindly behind him, the hail of blue laser bolts absorbed by the horde with no more than a snarl. Thuds of movement behind them were underscored by infernal howls, becoming less of a scrambled cacophony and more distinct as the stampede drew closer. The scarlet haze ahead offered nothing but more places to run, no final destination or sanctuary.

Slippy pulled ahead and tore down a corridor to the left, Fox and Krystal following behind as the creatures howled after them. He smashed into a tall equipment storage locker propped up against the wall, shoving it down behind him and partially blocking the hall as he glimpsed something with too many arms and blade-like protrusions coming out of its back. The howling cries grew louder as claws and arms tore into the obstacle with a screeching of metal, and Fox caught up with Krystal and Slippy just as the mist revealed a large, closed door in front of them.

"Open the fucking door!" Fox snapped, firing a barrage of green into the mist, hearing them tear through his barricade.

"I'm trying!" Slippy stammered, flailing with his data assistant as the moans grew louder. Krystal let her rifle hang around her neck by the strap and reached behind her shoulder, pulling her electrostaff from its holster. She thumbed a button and the staff extended to almost two meters in length, the emitters at each end crackling with purplish arcs of energy. Fox fired a series of three shot bursts as something that used to be an equine lumbered forth through the haze, sharp arthropod legs growing out of it's back and curving pincers where its hands should've been. He shot it three times in the head, green bolts of energy tearing through its skull, but the creature kept coming and Krystal whirled her staff over her head with a crackle of energy, lashing at it's center of mass. The end of the staff connected with an electric sizzle, the horse-creature stumbling to the side before swiping at her with its claw. The blades of the pincer snapped shut as Krystal ducked down, stabbing the staff into its neck with a burst of sparks. Fox hollered as he kept pulling the trigger, unloading blaster bolts into its body to no avail, Krystal dodging swipes from the thing's claws as she struck it over and over, driving it back maybe a half step with every hit.

More shapes became visible through the haze. Fox yelled at her to get back, firing at the nearing horde, and in slow motion he saw the horse-creature's claw closing around her neck. He could hear himself screaming, not caring about anything else in that split second. Then Krystal blocked with the center of her staff, the pincers crunching into the metal and snapping it in half. A death-rattle burst of sparks shot out of the electrostaff as the emitters went dead, and the vixen stumbled backwards, firing at the horse-creature and the groups of newcomers flooding behind it.

"SLIPPY!" Fox roared.

"Got it!" the amphibian yelped, and the doors slid open.

Fox grabbed Krystal's arm and yanked her through the doorway with him, firing into the horde as their horrid details became clear. They stumbled to the floor under the white glowpanels of the room and Slippy pressed a button on his data assistant. The doors squeaked closed over the moans of the horde, but not before something ran inside with them.

An otter, wearing a white science uniform tattered and stained with blood, appeared almost normal save for the mangled red appendages at the ends of its arms. It looked at Fox and Krystal sprawled on the floor with milked-over wide eyes, then moaned and ran towards them as Slippy shot it in the back with his automatic blaster pistol. The blue bolts tore into the creature and it stumbled, enough time for Krystal to shove herself off Fox and leap to her feet. Wails from the thing pierced the room and it came at Krystal, Fox firing at its side. The otter-thing tripped for a second and looked back up at Krystal as she smashed the butt of her rifle across its face, knocking it into the wall and firing a burst into its chest.

It shrieked and blood spewed from its mouth, its nose, its ears, the body convulsing and fur rippling as white eyes bulged out of its sockets. Rolling onto his chest, Fox took aim at the otter's kneecap blew half its leg off. The thing collapsed to the ground and Fox leapt to his feet, lining up next to Slippy and Krystal and opening fire. Green and blue flashes tore into the body as the arms elongated and twisted with a sharp crunching, bony spines sprouting out of its backbone. The otter-thing's torso stretched away from the hips, the remnants of both legs sloughing off, and red sprayed onto the ceiling as the otter's spinal cord tore free, formed into a prolonged bony tail with a wicked spike at the end. It crawled toward them little more than a torso with a bloody tail, crawling even as their blaster fire scorched and tore it's flesh down to the bone. The tail whipped into the wall, coiling up, and Fox dragged Krystal backwards, falling into a kitchen counter with a sink. Krystal yelled and fired into the ceiling, her finger still on the blaster's trigger, as the tail whipped into the place that her face used to be. The creature turned its head and glared at Slippy, its jaw unhinging and its mouth gaping wide, needle teeth sprouting from its gums. Slippy cried and staggered into a corner, firing at the otter-creature's face as it crawled forward, the tail lashing wildly behind it. Bolts from Slippy's pistol ripped into the otter's head, tearing the top of its skull off and burning out its eyes, and it still crawled forward, eyeless and brainless with a full set of teeth.

Tears were streaming down Slippy's face as the thing came closer, Krystal was yelling and pouring shot after shot into it's back, and out of the corner of Fox's eye he saw a nearly full green bottle of Stoker Absinthe. For some reason, his brain recalled something he'd seen Wolf do before, and he grabbed the bottle by the neck and flung it as hard as he could into the otter-thing's back. The bottle shattered with a crackling pop, drenching the thing in high-proof alcohol as Fox brought up his rifle and roared at Slippy to move. Green needles of light flashed out of Fox's blaster and tore into the creature's back, igniting the alcohol with a burst of flames as Slippy scrambled on his hands and knees along the wall. The creature's tail lashed convulsively and it let out a hollow, rattling moan, the room becoming hotter with the acrid smell of burning flesh.

Flames lit the room and cast panicked shadows on the walls, and the creature frantically dragged itself into a group of cabinets against the opposite wall, trying to crawl upwards to the ceiling. Fox brought up his rifle and fired into its arms, knocking the thing back onto the floor. It let out one more chirping, gurgling scream before it shivered and curled up, and all that was left was the crackling of flames. They all kept looking at it, their hands shaking as they held their guns aimed at the flaming body, breaths issuing raggedly from their mouths. No one suggested that they put the fire out, even as smoke stung their eyes and choked their lungs, they all stayed exactly where they were and watched until the flames died down and all that was left was a smoking, charred corpse.

Fox could almost hear the nervous swallowing sound over the comlink.

"Is everyone alright?" Peppy inquired, and they traded glances in silence, before looking back at the smoldering body to make sure it didn't move.

It didn't.

"I'm fine," Fox mumbled, touching the gray armor plating over Krystal's shoulder. She looked back at him and her face said that she didn't mind the physical contact.

"Are you okay?" he asked, and she gave a breathless, faint nod. Fox looked over as Slippy picked himself up from the floor.

"Slippy?"

"I'm...a _lot _of things right now. 'Okay' isn't one of them," Slippy murmured, "I'll live."

A violent slam shook the doors to the room and Slippy scrambled away from them with a gasp.

"They're still out there!" Slippy cried, and a small lump appeared in the metal as something on the other side smashed against it.

"Can they get through the doors?" Krystal said, her voice heavy.

Fox looked at the doors, and they rattled as something slammed into them.

"I don't know," he swallowed.

There was a smash against the door, producing a second lump, then another crash. Then there was silence. The quiet, tense anticipation of a further impact, wondering why they'd paused, was somehow worse than the crashing itself had been. Fox's mouth was dry, his heartbeat slow as he watched the doors, counting the lumps, wondering how much more they could take before giving in. It was just a standard door, not reinforced against impacts like a blast door would be. It probably wasn't even built to be locked. There were more dents from the other side than Fox expected. It did not look like this was the first time something had tried to break through. He tried not to wonder how things had worked out for the previous person that had taken shelter in here.

A few more minutes passed in silence, without further ramming against the doors. Fox breathed out as a wave of relief spread down his body, hoping that he was right in feeling safe for now.

"They're gone," Slippy respired, "That's good, right?"

"I wouldn't stay in there long," Peppy advised over the comlink, "That door doesn't look like it'll hold up if they come back."

"If they come back that way," Fox said quietly, remembering what he'd seen in the blood-stained locker room, "Maybe they're looking for another way in. Check if there's any large vent access to this room."

Slippy nodded nervously and they began to search the room, instinctively looking back at the charred body of the otter-thing to make sure it hadn't moved.

It hadn't. Yet.

They'd found their way into what looked like an employee lounge of some kind, complete with a flatscreen, couch and chess table on one half of the room and a dining table with an appliance-stocked kitchen taking up the other half. The otter-creature had died more in the kitchen, near a group of cabinets with a sink that was mirrored on the opposite wall of the room. They kept their distance from the body as they opened cabinets, searched corners and other places for any way something might enter the room other than through the door. Slippy announced that he was going to check and use the small refresher connected to the lounge, and Fox told him to keep the door open so that at least a part of him was in sight. The amphibian did so reluctantly, the faint tinkling of piss going into the toilet just audible as Fox and Krystal opened a cabinet over the arc-stove, searching for any ventilation that had been installed to divert smoke or oppressive scents while cooking. They found a vent, but it was barely big enough to fit a fist, let alone one of the creatures they'd seen so far.

"So..." the vixen whispered, "Remember what you said about not allowing anything bad to happen?"

"Yeah," Fox murmured.

"How are you feeling about that now?"

Fox looked into her cyan eyes. There was so much of that strength, that hardness that she'd built up during her her year alone as Kursed. But he could see it ebbing away. She was trying to hold it together, trying to rationalize the brutal chaos all around in the hope of finding a way out. But she was nearing the edge of losing it. They had found themselves in the same living nightmare, but she had the added pressure of sensitivity to the vague and malevolent psychic miasma that filled the _Starghast_. Feeling unsafe in one's own head was something that Fox had dealt with too, after Wolf poisoned him with a deliriant drug called Dalianide. It nearly broke him, and it took months for his mind to recover.

"We're going to get out of here," Fox said, "I promise." He concentrated hard on calming, confident thoughts, hoping that she'd pick up on them and feed off whatever strength he was mustering. Maybe with enough effort they could give each other strength.

"I didn't find any easy vent access in there," Slippy reported, emerging from the refresher.

"Looks like the easiest way to get in is still through the door," Fox remarked, "All the more reason to make a plan and get out of here, before they come back."

"Oh...okay," Slippy nodded, his blue eyes lowered. It looked like he couldn't decide which made him less comfortable, staying in here with the body of the otter-creature or facing whatever stalked the rest of the ship.

"Can you tell anything else about what it is you're sensing?" Fox inquired, looking over at Krystal.

The vixen swallowed, breathed and closed her eyes.

"I can still feel it," she replied, "It's all around us. So hard to tell what it wants, it's so...different. Even from how the Aparoids were. But there's a glimpse of something familiar, I don't know on who's part. It wants us here. If I had to say something solid, it doesn't feel like it wants us dead. Not clearly, at least. It wants something else. But I wouldn't say that's good news."

"Can you tell how it's connected to these things?" Fox probed.

"I know there's a connection," Krystal whispered, "Everything is connected, the ship and those creatures. Like parts of one enormous organism."

"Like the Queen?"

Krystal shook her head.

"It's not like the Queen," she said, "I might be able to tell you more later. I'm still trying to understand it myself."

Fox nodded, looking over to Slippy.

"That thing's fresher than the other one we found," Fox remarked, "Can you learn anything new from it?"

Slippy gulped, "Well, we already know that its cells are still technically alive, even though the thing itself might be dead. Since it's so recently dead, it might be even _more _dangerous to be around."

"What about another sample?"

Slippy looked at the twisted, blackened body of the thing that tried to kill him ten minutes ago. He did not move closer.

"Slippy, we need to know what these things are, how they work," Fox said, "Maybe we can learn how to kill them. We can't learn that without you."

The amphibian nodded his large head, taking out a scalpel and another rectangular capsule. Taking short, cautious one-two steps, he crouched down by the body and cut a thin strip of meat from the spiny tail, smearing it into the capsule. He backed away from the body and took out his omnigraphic analyzer, unfolding it and extracting the capsule containing the tissue sample of the first creature they'd encountered, then he slid the new sample into the slot.

The holodisplay flashed to life, the words "Cellular Microscope/Tissue Analysis" on the heading of the interface window. A group of cells appeared in the window, less shriveled and globular than the ones from the first sample, and Slippy's eyes narrowed as he looked them over, sliding his view to other points on the sample.

"Anything new?" Fox inquired.

"Same as the first one," he reported with a shake of his head, "Fresher, less necrotic than the first sample, but the cells are what you'd expect in a normal enhydra. The cells are still alive, even though the creature is dead. What ever it is causing this, it's in the cells. Nucleus is denser than it should be...I've got an idea."

Slippy took a seat at the dining table, as far as he could get away from the corpse, setting the omnigraphic analyzer flat on the surface. He took out his scalpel, replacing the blade, then extracted the sample capsule from the analyzer. Pinching another section of the analyzer, Slippy extracted another piece, this one flat like a card or a glass slide. The card-like piece divided on a hinge lengthwise, like a book, and Slippy opened it up. Slipping one of his black gloves off his fingers, Slippy carefully held a green fingertip over the open slide, then pressed the point of the scalpel into the flesh. The skin broke, and a single droplet of blood dripped onto the slide. Fox and Krystal stared at Slippy curiously as he sucked his fingertip, then put his glove back on and opened the capsule, slicing off a small portion of the sample tissue and smearing it into the slide. Then he closed the slide back up and inserted it into the slot in the analyzer.

The holographic window changed, showing a collection of vaguely doughnut-shaped cells, along with more ovaloid globes. Something else, smaller and more angular, was floating among the cells.

"Woah," Slippy whispered, "Here we go."

"What?" Fox inquired.

"I think I've got it," Slippy nodded, frowning, "I've got a better idea of what's happening."

"What?" Fox said, more forcefully.

"These," Slippy indicated, pointing to the small angular shapes flitting amongst the cells, "Are Aparoid nanites."

A wave of feeling that was neither relief nor dread washed through Fox.

"So those things are Aparoids?" he asked.

"On a cellular level, yes," Slippy said, "They're operating in a way completely different from how they should. Regular Aparoid assimilation involved the nanites infiltrating the host and forming Aparoid cell structures over the host cells. The cell structures would slowly feed off the host cells as they developed; that's why it was possible for people like General Pepper to survive it. We killed the Queen before the cell structures absorbed all of him. This is different."

"How?" Krystal inquired.

"Look what it does to my blood," Slippy said, pointing to a nanite approaching one of the doughnut-shaped blood cells.

They watched as a nanite converged on the blood cell, overtaking it. Then the nanite sank into the cell, disappearing within. The blood cell moved among the others, as if nothing had happened.

Slippy breathed nervously.

"Instead of building cell structures over the host cells, the nanites _infiltrate _them," Slippy explained, his voice hollow, "That's why the nucleus is denser than it should be. The nanites take control of the host cells, spreading from cell to cell. It looks normal, but the nanite is capable of rearranging the cells, rewriting the DNA, and triggering these... _mutations _in the host."

"Is there a way to tell if someone's been infected?" Fox inquired.

"Maybe at a cellular level, if the nucleus density factor remains constant," Slippy proposed, "On the outside? There's no way to tell until the host transforms into one of those things. They might even act like regular people, not knowing they're infected."

"Is it reversible?"

"Possibly. It's hard to tell, since this isn't how the nanites are supposed to work. If there's a central source controlling them, like a Queen, removing that source and killing the nanites would probably reverse the infection," Slippy posited, "But once the host dies or transforms, there's no going back. It warps the host's own cells, it doesn't form new ones."

Fox came to the hardest question. The one he was most afraid of.

"How easy is it to be infected?"

Slippy swallowed.

"Very," he murmured, "All it takes is a few nanites. Once inside the host, they're capable of self-replication. It might be slower if it's transmitted through skin contact rather than through the blood. But all it takes is a few particles of these things. It's blood, the bodies of those things...they're all full of nanites. Any substantial contact with them means infection."

Krystal said nothing.

"That's just great," Fox whispered.

"We're working on getting all of you out," Peppy said through the comlinks, "Already uplinking with the _Pleiades _slave circuit. We should be able to pilot it by remote back to the landing bay. Then Falco can fly it to pick you guys up."

"How long?" Fox inquired.

"It looks like there's some kind of interference," Peppy replied, "It's causing a significant lag in the signal. We're talking at least an hour before it'll be back in the landing bay."

"An _hour _on this ship? With these _things_ running around?" Slippy whimpered.

"We can't just leave," Fox said.

"Why not?" the amphibian demanded.

"You said it yourself," Fox replied, "They're Aparoid nanites. A particle of these things can infect someone. We can't let them get off the ship."

"Then I vote we get out of here and blast it apart with the _Great Fox_!" Slippy snapped, "Problem solved."

"And what if some of it survives? We know the nanites can survive in space. Plus, we won't get paid."

"I can live with that! Key word: LIVE," Slippy retorted.

"We have to destroy whatever central source is controlling the nanites," Fox replied calmly, "It's also controlling those things. If we hit that, we take care of everything."

"We don't even know if there _is_ one! They're not functioning the way Aparoids are supposed to," Slippy came back.

"You said yourself they couldn't exist without one. Krystal's sensing _something _more than just these things. It follows that it's somewhere on this ship," Fox replied, "Putting all that aside, we need to figure out ways to kill them if we're going to leave this room. We know blasters don't do much. Fire seems better."

Slippy's bottom lip quivered, and he nodded nervously.

"That would make sense," the amphibian remarked, "Don't think of them so much like individual creatures. Each piece of these freaks is it's own organism. Shooting them doesn't work because it doesn't do that much except scorch a localized section of cells. Burning the whole body would kill the nanites over a large area, causing the creature to die, if you want to use that word."

"Okay, fire. What else?" Fox inquired.

"Wouldn't cold do the same thing?" Krystal offered.

"Maybe," Slippy mused, "Depends. The nanites can survive in space, but cold temperatures in an atmosphere, enough to freeze cellular movements, might at least immobilize them."

Fox glanced over to the large, steel-plated conservator against the wall of the kitchen.

"What about that?" Fox inquired, "Could you rig the stasis module for that conservator into something we can use to slow them down or freeze them in place?"

Slippy blew air out through the corner of his mouth.

"It's a long shot. I don't know, I'd have to look," the amphibian remarked.

Slippy folded up the omnigraphic analyzer and got out of his seat, examining the outside of the conservator.

"It...looks like someone's already tampered with it a bit," he reported, looking at the back of the appliance, "They've rerouted power conduits to change the settings of the stasis field. Weird."

"Why would they do that?" Krystal remarked, approaching the conservator.

"Beats me," Slippy shrugged, moving around to the front of the appliance.

"The module's inside the housing, right?" Fox inquired, reaching for the handle.

"Should be," Slippy nodded quietly.

The conservator door came open with a light hiss, and something looked back at him.

Fox lurched back with a shout, bringing up his rifle instinctively. They stood with weapons aimed at the open conservator door, and several moments passed without the figure inside moving. Cautiously lowering his rifle, Fox looked over the body inside the appliance.

A young female cheetah with an athletic frame and long brown hair extensions stared at them with glassy, violet eyes. She wore a tight blue uniform with black armor padding over her chest and legs, a patch visible on her left shoulder with the profile and name of the CRV _Starghast_, and he could see a blaster pistol clasped desperately in her hands. She was in a fetal position crammed inside the conservator, having removed several shelves and stacked them against her back. Her eyes were wide open and there wasn't a sign of decay on her body, but not one hair moved in reaction to them. She just as easily could've been a wax figure.

"What the hell..." Fox whispered.

"Is she dead?" Krystal remarked.

"No, she's alive," Slippy breathed, "She can see us and she knows everything we're saying."

Fox looked down at Slippy, his brow furrowed, "What are you talking about?"

"Damn, that's clever," the amphibian murmured, crouching down to examine a control panel on the inside of the conservator housing, "Quick thinking. Risky, but it worked."

Fox clenched his jaw and breathed, looking at Krystal, and the vixen licked her lips and said, "Slippy, if you please..."

The frog looked up at them and smiled awkwardly, standing to full height, "Sorry. She's uh, rigged the conservator's stasis field, modified it into a stasis pod. Conservators work by preserving the exact molecular structure of the food you put into it using a stasis field. Cold food stays cold, hot food stays hot, nothing about it really changes as long as it stays in the conservator. With a few tweaks, you can modify the field to accommodate suspended animation of a living subject. That's just what she's done here. Locked herself in until someone lets her out."

"Can _we _let her out?" Fox inquired.

Slippy nodded, "It's as easy as taking food out of the conservator. She can't let herself out, but we can."

"What did you mean? About how she can see and hear us?" Krystal probed.

"She can still receive and process stimuli, she just can't _move _or do anything," Slippy answered, "I imagine she's been in there since the ship was infected. It's a clever plan to survive. She doesn't need food or anything, doesn't generate any life signs or scent for the creatures to detect. It's just a gamble over who, or what, opens the door and lets her out."

"Looks like she was part of the ship's security force," Fox muttered, glancing over her uniform, "Could she be infected?"

Slippy looked sideways at the feline in the conservator, staring back at them emptily, and shrugged.

"No way to tell. I can say that, if she _was _infected, the stasis field probably stopped it from spreading. If we let her out and she _is _infected, the nanites will continue to spread throughout her system."

"But she's part of the security team," Fox said, "So she's useful with a gun. She's smart enough to rig this conservator as a hiding place. And she can tell us more about what happened on this ship than anyone else."

"Wait a moment," Krystal interjected, "Are you talking about letting her out?"

"I'm mulling it over."

"You heard Slippy," she said, "She could be infected. If she's smart enough to rig the conservator into a stasis unit, maybe she _knew _it would stop the infection. Perhaps she froze herself hoping that whoever let her out would have a cure."

"That's a bit of a stretch," Fox shook his head, "She's a _security _officer, not a scientist. She probably just knew it would be a good way to hide and wait for rescue. She's survived for weeks like this. She might be the only survivor. She knows this ship and what's going on a lot better than we do."

"That's still quite a risk you're taking with _my _life _and _Slippy's. If she's the only survivor, chances are that she's infected," Krystal maintained, then looked over at Slippy, "What do _you _think?"

The amphibian stepped back and put his hands up peacefully.

"I know _way _better than to get between you two when you're bickering," Slippy mumbled.

"What does _that _mean?" Krystal demanded hotly.

"Look, we're all freaked out, but we'll have a better chance of surviving this if we understand how it happened and what we're up against," Fox remarked calmly, putting a hand on the gray armor covering Krystal's forearm.

She tugged her arm out of his grip and shot him a diamond-edged glare.

"_You _don't understand what we're up against," Krystal hissed, "_You _don't hear it in your head and feel it all around you. It _knows _we're here, Fox, it wants us for it's own. I can't put it into words, but those thingsout there aren't the only threat and if there's a _chance _that it's touched her..."

The vixen trailed off and took a breath, looking to the side and pursing her lips. Fox wanted to touch her again in hopes of reassuring her, but he decided against it. Slippy swallowed and looked awkwardly at the girl in the conservator. She stared back at them.

"It's okay to be afraid-"

"I'm _not_," she growled.

Fox touched a finger to her jaw and moved her face until her aquamarine eyes met his emeralds.

"I'm afraid, too," Fox whispered, "But we _can't _let fear control us. If we do, it wins. I won't let it win. Just trust me."

"Trust you..." Krystal murmured with a hint of scorn. Fox kept looking into her eyes, unchanging, and he could feel the tingling, spectral charge as Krystal's mind touched his. He could feel the tension, the dark enveloping dread that gripped her, and he made his thoughts a place of calmness and stone. She swallowed, clenched her jaw and nodded.

"Let's do it," Fox remarked, stepping towards the open conservator next to Slippy. Krystal stood back and gripped her blaster rifle, her bottlebrush tail wrapping nervously around her thigh.

"Is there some way we have to take her out? To make sure she comes out of it alright or something?" Fox inquired.

"Nope," Slippy answered, "Just like taking a pie out of the conservator."

Neither of them moved toward the glassy-eyed feline crouched in the conservator, as if at the edge of a cliff, pondering the decision to jump.

"On three?" Fox breathed.

"One," Slippy said.

"Two."

"Three."

They reached into the conservator, feeling the odd tingle of the stasis field passing over their limbs as they gripped the feline's shoulders and dragged her out of the appliance. Her body went slack as soon as she passed through the doors, the blaster pistol in her hands clattering to the ground. She gasped in a loud gulp of air as her knees buckled and she collapsed to the floor, dark brown hair splayed around her scalp. Fox and Slippy joined Krystal, looking anxiously down at the female as she breathed raggedly, face obscured in a veil of hair. She pushed herself up and Fox saw violet eyes, no longer glassy and lifeless, scanning him through the veil. He took a half-step backwards until he realized that he was edging closer to the blackened corpse of the otter-creature, and he couldn't decide which made him less comfortable.

The feline raised an arm and brushed the hair out of her face, over rounded ears as bangs fell lusciously above her brow. Breathing open-mouthed to expose clean white teeth, she glanced at them one after another, the white coloring over her muzzle trailing down to her chest, where the cut of her uniform stopped the view just north of her rising-and-falling breasts. She wore the hair extensions well, and her glossy coat with dark spots covering toned muscles told Fox that she took very good care of herself. Her tail curled anxiously as her eyes met Fox's, and he pondered that she was much more attractive when she wasn't frozen in suspended animation. He read a capacity for warm tenderness and fierce determination in her face that spoke to him. Out of the corner of his eye, Krystal gave him a look.

The cheetah swallowed, licked her lips and looked at the floor, her jaw moving as if she was talking to herself, then she looked back up at them gingerly.

"Is someone gonna help me up?" she grunted.

It took a second for Fox to step forward and extend a hand, and the feline wrapped her fingers around his and held on as he helped her to her feet. She staggered for a few moments and Fox put a hand on her shoulder to steady her, but she stepped back as if to say that she didn't need the help. The feline put a hand on her forehead, blinking hard and giving her head a quick shake.

"You're probably feeling some residual effects of the stasis field," Slippy remarked, "It wasn't made to accommodate people."

The cheetah nodded as she opened her eyes, saying, "I was wondering if you guys were going to let me out-"

Then her lavender eyes swelled as she saw the twisted corpse of the otter-creature, and she lurched backwards with an intense, wide-eyed stare.

"Did—did you kill that thing?" she demanded.

Fox nodded.

"Did you _touch_ it?"

"No," Fox answered.

"Did it _bite _you?"

"No."

"Are you _sure_?"

"Yes," Fox replied firmly.

She glared at them suspiciously, her back against the counter, but after a moment her shoulders relaxed and the tense wrinkles around her muzzle softened.

"Who are you?" she said, the quiet of the room making her soft voice loud.

"We're the StarFox Team," Fox explained, "The company hired us to investigate."

"I thought you looked familiar. Flying fox logo and all. And you," the feline said with a glance at Slippy, "You kind of look like your father."

"You know my father?" Slippy remarked.

"Seen him on HV," the feline said quickly.

"And you're..." Fox muttered, looking at the name badge on the cheetah's breast, "Ploughman?"

"Al...Adelaide," the cheetah said breathlessly.

"Fox McCloud," the StarFox leader replied, shaking Adelaide's hand. The cheetah didn't look into his eyes, instead glancing over his shoulder. Fox followed her gaze to Krystal, seeing an odd, pondering look on the vixen's face. It looked like she smelled something odd, but she couldn't be sure.

"I guess you recognize Slippy. That's Krystal," Fox explained.

"Hell of a dye job," Adelaide muttered, "Are you blue all over?"

"I'm an alien."

"Oh. Okay."

Fox's brow furrowed at Krystal and her cold curtness, and he broadcasted the thought _What is it _in her direction, hoping she could hear. His only reply was a wave of restrained hostility that he couldn't be sure was suspicion or jealousy. Krystal rolled her eyes and before he could ask out loud, the confused looks from Slippy and Adelaide forced him to move on.

"You're part of the ship's security team?" Fox inquired.

"Lieutenant security officer," the cheetah nodded, looking back at the otter-creature's corpse, "Can we get _away _from that thing?"

"Sure," Fox said, and they went over to the dining table on the other side of the room. Adelaide only made it a few steps before she stumbled into one of the seats and sat down, massaging her legs.

"How long have I been in there?" she inquired.

"It's been twenty eight days since the company lost contact with the ship," Slippy told her.

"Feels like a century," Adelaide murmured, kneading her thighs, "All I could do was stare at the door, wondering what would open it. _If _someone ever opened it. I thought I was going to lose my mind, unable to move, unable to sleep. Trapped in my own head."

Adelaide's eyes seemed to divide their time between looking at the corpse, looking at the dented doors and looking at them. Fox leaned into the table over her, trying to hold her attention.

"What happened here?" he inquired.

"You probably know more than me. The alarms woke me up in my quarters," she whispered, "There was panic. All we knew was that something went wrong on the bridge. Or near the bridge. Security forces were scattered. Half of us were assigned to find all of the crew that we could and herd them towards the mess hall complex. The other half were supposed to retake the bridge. Lambert...my partner, and I, we were trying to find survivors. I was trying to find Mi...Mara."

"Mara?" Fox probed.

"She's...a friend," Adelaide muttered.

"She's more than just that," Krystal interjected, her eyes narrowed, "You and her were lovers, weren't you?"

Adelaide's face dropped and her head jerked back as if she'd suffered an electric shock.

"H...How...?" the cheetah demanded breathlessly, half confused and half outraged.

Fox sent Krystal a frown and she directed just the vaguest hint of a smirk his way. He chastised himself for the glimmer of disappointment in the back of his head at the news, wondering how he could manage to think of such things at a time like this.

"Krystal's a telepath," Fox explained, then looked back at the vixen harshly, "Sometimes she doesn't know when to stay out of people's heads."

"She might've _whispered_ that Mara was just a friend, but her mind practically _shouted _otherwise," Krystal huffed stiffly, crossing her arms, "Sometimes people don't keep their thoughts to themselves."

Slippy tried to force an awkward smile as Fox breathed through his nose and returned his gaze to Adelaide.

"You were trying to find Mara?" Fox bade her to continue.

Adelaide nodded, "She was part of the science team. My partner and I were trying to find her when we first saw those...things. We lost contact with central command and...everything just went insane. I got separated from my partner and they chased me in here. I thought they were going to break through, so I hid myself in there. Thought it was better than nothing."

"Can you tell us anything else? About what they were working on here with the core memory? About the infection?" Fox inquired.

Adelaide licked her lips.

"I just know that they were studying it. Mara was part of the team working on it. They said it was going to change the galaxy," she said with a sad smile, "If they bite you, you're dead. If they touch you, you're dead too, but slower. I saw someone that was bitten. He was scratching all over until he bled. Said he could feel them under his skin and hear them in his head. He screamed that dying was the only way to make them stop. Then he just...tore himself open. Stuff started growing out..."

Fox glanced at the table as Adelaide gripped her hands together in her lap.

"Do you know how to kill them?"

"Fire seems to work," she said, "Blasters don't. I heard on the comm that cutting off their limbs helps. Keeps them from transforming on you. But you have to burn them. They're not dead until you burn them."

Fox nodded, looking up at the glowpanels in the ceiling and scratching the fur over the back of his neck. She wasn't the wealth of insight he'd hoped for.

"Do you know where we'd find some way to make fire? Explosives?" Fox asked, "Plasma cutters?"

"Maybe we can access the security cameras and try to reconstruct what happened here," Slippy pondered, moving to a systems console over on the wall. He pressed a few buttons and a selection of windows appeared on the holographic interface, and just as Fox's head turned to face Adelaide he heard a burst of garbled, growling static. Slippy jumped back from the console and Fox glimpsed a dark, wide face with pinprick yellow eyes before the entire display blacked out. Krystal's gaze was centered on the space where the face had been, her jaw slack with dread.

Slippy's eyes were wide, his mouth open nervously as he faced Fox and Krystal with confusion.

"What the hell was _that_?" Peppy remarked over the comlink.

Back at the table, Adelaide's shoulders rose and fell calmly as a sullen look spread over her face.

"That would be VIRGIS," she sighed.

Fox stared at her.

"The _Starghast_'s AI system. Helps run the ship, controls navigation, assists with research. Closest thing the shiphas to a brain," Adelaide said, "Something happened to it. It's been corrupted or compromised or something. I just know that it's not on our side anymore. It's one reason the ship fell so fast. We were still scrambling to organize and work our way around the computers because most of them were keeping us out."

"Oh, this is _bad_," Slippy groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

"What does it control?" Fox inquired, "The doors?"

"No," Adelaide said, "Thankfully. Shipwide comms, navigation control, research data, lighting, things like that. Life support and the doors are isolated. Same thing with the security system and the holocams. They're on their own separate network. If we're looking for weapons, and for the surveillance system, it'll be in the forward security center. It's fortified lot more than this room."

"Where's the security center?"

Adelaide chuckled a bit.

"About one hundred meters of hallway, down one deck and then another hundred meters down another hallway," she reported.

"God," Slippy whimpered.

"We don't have a choice. It's our only option," Fox grunted, picking up the blaster pistol that Adelaide had dropped when they pulled her out of the conservator, "Does this still work?"

Adelaide got out of her chair, took the pistol from Fox's hand and shot an orange blaster bolt into the twisted face of the otter-thing with a cracking pop.

"I think so," the feline said with a vague smirk, "But it won't do much good against them. We need fire. Something to use in a pinch. We can't just retreat back here if we run into trouble. Those doors won't hold."

"I know something that might work," Slippy murmured, approaching Adelaide, "It's going to cost the blaster, though."

Adelaide's brow went up and she slowly handed the pistol over. Slippy sat down at the dining table and opened the data assistant mounted on his wrist, then he ejected the gas magazine from the pistol's hand grip. He examined the small plastic gauge on the magazine, nodding and muttering to himself, then he slapped the clip back into the pistol and un-spooled a cord from the data assistant. Working with the holographic input peripherals generated by the data assistant, Slippy connected the cord to the charging port on the pistol's battery casing, manipulating a few of the holographic windows before disconnecting the cord and closing his data assistant. He got up from his seat and presented the gun to Adelaide, who accepted it carefully.

"I reprogrammed the blaster's battery," Slippy explained, "When you pull the trigger, it'll discharge all of the energy into the gas magazine at once. Basically turns the blaster into a high explosive fragmentation grenade. You'll get about a two and a half second delay after you pull the trigger before it blows."

"How big of a blast?" Adelaide asked.

"Hard to say with this thing, it's far from exact. Blasters are designed to prevent this sort of thing, so it probably won't be big. You'll want it to be close to whatever you want to blow up," Slippy grimaced, "On the plus side, though, it'll definitely set anything nearby on fire."

"Why didn't you bring this up before?" Fox asked.

"It's not the most efficient plan," Slippy shrugged, "We're sacrificing one of our weapons to make a grenade, and not a very good one. Her pistol is the least useful weapon we have, it's just a semiautomatic. It's desperate."

"And if I use it, I'm completely unarmed. Wonderful," Adelaide sighed, "You've made one of the best worst weapons ever."

"Just remember not to shoot anything with it," Krystal remarked.

Adelaide sent Krystal a sardonic smirk as she shoved the pistol into her holster.

"Do we know where we're going?" Fox looked over to Slippy.

Slippy brought up his wrist and a hologram of the _Starghast _flashed out of his data assistant, a red path drawn out through a relatively small section of the ship. "I've got it," he answered, "It's like she said. Pretty much a straight trip, but a long walk through those hallways."

"Then there's no reason to stay here any longer," Fox said, looking at the doors, "Let's move out."

Slippy nodded slowly, licking his lips as he stepped close to the door controls. Fox gripped onto his rifle and Krystal held hers ready as Adelaide flexed her hands with an anxious look. As useless as a blaster was against these things, it still made Fox feel better to have a gun in his hand.

"Here," he said, drawing his EE-40 pistol out of the holster slung low on his hip, presenting it to her, "Better than nothing."

"Thanks," she nodded, taking the pistol as she brushed a lock of hair over her shoulder.

"I'll want it back when we get to the security center," Fox smirked.

"I'd be happy to give it to you," Adelaide remarked, forcing a smile back. Krystal rolled her eyes.

"We ready?" Fox inquired.

"No," Slippy muttered.

"Open the doors," Fox ordered, flicking on the flashlight mounted at the end of the rifle. Krystal did the same as Slippy pressed a button on the door controls with a cringe. The dented doors creaked open, grinding apart slowly on their track and opening into the dark, empty corridor beyond. The red emergency lighting had gone off, plunging the hallways into deep blackness. The white mist seemed to have dissipated, but their flashlights only penetrated so far into the shadows. Fox saw no trace of the horde, and though the hallway emitted a vague musty odor, there was no sweet-vomit smell.

"Looks quiet enough," he said.

"Famous last words," Krystal murmured.

"Don't. Say that," Fox growled.

Fox led them into the hallway, step by slow step, with Adelaide behind him followed by Slippy with Krystal keeping an eye on the rear. They made it a few meters from the light of the open doorway and Fox paused, his ears alert for trouble. There was no movement that he could detect, no subtle vibrations in the metal floor warning them of approaching nightmares, no sound but his own breathing in his ears. Around them the ship steadied and located them, small eddies of air, sound and movement stirred and waited and whispered just under Fox's notice, and the center of consciousness was somehow where they stood, four separated people, seemingly so far away from each other.

They ventured wordlessly into the darkness, the only sounds were their own breaths and heartbeats and the curt tapping of boots on the floor. The light from Fox's flashlight swept back and forth over the bulkheads and threw shadows into the corners. The air had changed again, from hot and humid to dry and stiffly cold.

No one said anything as they lurked down the hall, as if speaking would further alert anything that might be listening. He led the way, following the path displayed in the green scouter over his eye. Every once in a while Fox would pass a juncture to the right or the left and shine his flashlight down the path, convinced that something had moved out of the corner of his vision. There was always an empty hallway and particles of dust dancing in the beam, and nothing else.

It was at one of these moments that his flashlight caught something more than just empty corridor, a glinting of metal on the floor. Slippy approached it, holstered his automatic pistol and picked it up, showing them a metal cylinder a similar size to the glowrod in his other hand.

"Lucky find," Slippy remarked, "It's a plasma cutter. With some modification you could lengthen the blade and turn this into more of-"

"A sword," Fox interrupted, looking over Slippy's shoulder and shining his light into the darkness behind. He couldn't help but think something was gone that had been there a moment before, a shadow or a shape that he'd assumed was part of the walls.

"Yeah," Slippy nodded, "How'd you know?"

"Let's get moving," Fox said, "Keep it handy, we'll probably need it."

"Hold on a sec," Slippy muttered, examining the cutter with his glowrod, "Just want to make sure it wor-"

There was a click, then a high-pitched whining sound as a half-meter long shaft of blue plasma grew out of the end of the cutter, crackling with energy as the internal magnetic field stabilized the blade. The cutter's piercing whine echoed through the darkness as bluish white illuminated Slippy's face, and the amphibian fumbled with it for a few seconds before finding the button. The plasma blade disintegrated and Slippy grimaced painfully, glancing around the hallway and biting his lower lip. Everyone was tense, waiting for something to happen, but nothing did.

"Are you some kind of moron?!" Adelaide hissed.

"I'm sorry..." Slippy whispered.

"Let's _go_," Fox growled. They continued on down the corridor, reflexes on edge as if they were overdue for some fresh new horror. Their footsteps were slower, more careful this time, barely making a sound, and in their silence the quiet weight of the _Starghast _pressed down from all around them. As his light glided over the pipes and the vents in the walls, Fox realized that there was something about the ship itself that set his teeth on edge. On both sides the walls slanted inwards as if about to buckle from the pressure of the oppressively low-hanging ceiling. There were no round edges, no smooth surfaces, all sharp angles at every glance, and there was something vulgar about the exposed piping, trailing cables along the walls and random grates in the ceiling, as if one was always walking through the ship's entrails. Even the doorways were uncomfortably shaped. Who could have possibly thought a ship like the _Starghast_ was appropriate for long-term habitation? Fox had yet to see so much as a single viewport. Perhaps if he was able to get some glimpse of the stars, of the _Great Fox _standing by reassuringly off the starboard side, it might be possible to shake the feeling that he was trapped in a metal labyrinth with no way out.

Up ahead to their left, part of the hallway folded into an alcove, and the floor opened up to a ladder leading down into a shadowy lower deck. Fox, Krystal and Slippy shone their lights down the ladder, illuminating the floor of the deck below, but no one volunteered to go first through the hole.

"Drop your glowrod down there," Fox whispered to Slippy, "_Gently_."

Slippy crouched down by the hole and extended his arm slowly into the darkness. He released the glowrod and it clattered loudly to the floor below. Everyone looked down the hole, then over their shoulders, but the _Starghast _was quiet.

"The waiting for something to happen, it's almost worse than having something happen," Slippy breathed.

"No it's not," Adelaide hissed.

"It's not us doing the waiting. Its waiting for _us_," Krystal murmured, glancing up at the ceiling, "Waiting for us to lower our guard."

"Then don't lower your guard," Fox growled.

No one moved to go down the ladder, so Fox grabbed a hold of the top rung and swung the upper half of his body down through the hole, sweeping his light down one direction of the corridor and then the other. The empty hallway beckoned to him with floating dust particles and blankets of shadow. He drew back up and let his rifle hang limp by the strap around his neck, then he grabbed both ends of the ladder and slid down. Everyone else seemed to move faster, just as anxious not to be the last person left above. Fox tried to suppress a sigh of relief when Krystal finally made her way down the ladder to join the rest of them. Slippy picked up his glowrod and they walked down the corridor.

The air was colder down here, and even with their flashlights it was thickly dark. No one said a word, hearing the same sound. They weren't sure when it started. From the depths of the _Starghast_, ringing through its sharp tunnels and shadows, came the steady low sound of a voice babbling, too low for words to be understood, too steady for disbelief. The sounds seemed to be coming from the direction that they were headed, towards the security center, but it was too late to turn back. There was no reliable safe haven in either direction, and all they could do was continue forward. Creeping through the darkness of the corridor, holding on to his rifle so tightly he could feel his bones, Fox listened along with the others and the low, steady sound went on and on.

Sometimes the voice lifted for emphasis on a mumbled word, falling sometimes to a breath, going on and on and on. Fox thought that another voice started gasping, breathing behind them, but he glanced over his shoulder to see Slippy hyperventilating, the whites of his bulbous eyes swollen. Krystal and Adelaide's faces were rigid, but the eyes of both betrayed their fear. Without warning there was a little laugh, a small gurgling giggle that broke through the babbling, rising louder and louder, and then broke off suddenly in a painful little gasp. The voice went on. Fox thought he might be able to distinguish words if he stopped walking and stood perfectly still, if he stood perfectly still and just listened, listened and heard the voice going on and on, never ceasing. The voice _wanted _him to stop, it _wanted _him to listen. So he didn't stop, he didn't listen, but the voice went on mumbling, babbling, low and steady, a little liquid guttural sound that echoed through the lonely halls of CRV _Starghast_.

Up ahead, Fox could see a juncture to the left, and as they passed it the little gurgling laugh came again, rising maddeningly until the sound of it drowned out the voice, and then suddenly absolute silence. Fox took a breath, swallowed and walked past the juncture, and then he heard a little soft cry that stabbed in his chest, an infinitely sad cry, a sweet moan of wild panic and desperation.

"Go away! Go away, please don't hurt me!" it sobbed, "Please someone help me..."

"Shit," Fox hissed, turning back towards the juncture, "It's got a kid."

Slippy let out a little squeak and he felt a wave of denial flow from Krystal like hot lead in his veins, but he didn't stop until Adelaide grabbed his arm and snapped, "Don't!"

"There's something down there and it's got a _kid_," Fox said through gritted teeth, wrenching his arm out of her grip.

"Listen to me," Adelaide snarled lowly, "Look at me and hear my words: There are _no _children on this ship, there _never _have been. Do you understand me? Whatever that is, it's _not _a child."

Fox felt the blood draining from his face and his mouth went dry as the babbling went on, low and steady, on and on and on, the voice rising a little and falling a little, on and on. They made it a few steps away from the junction when the gurgling laugh shot through the halls again, louder and wilder before being choked into silence again.

Then they heard the scratching. The hollow shuffling of movement and thuds of limbs against metal, of things moving around inside the walls. The thuds and rustling drowned out the babbling, even though it continued on, droning, mumbling at them, on and on. They looked at the ceiling, at the walls, muscles rigid as they heard things shuffling behind the metal, their guns ready, unsure where to aim.

"The vent," Krystal whispered, her flashlight shining on a large grate in the wall easily big enough to accommodate something the size of a person. They crowded around and leveled their lights at it, hearing the shuffles and thuds and sounds of movement reverberating from the dreary ducts beyond. They stood by the grate with fingers caressing their triggers, and the thudding suddenly stopped. Whatever was moving in the walls had paused, but there was nothing visible through the slits of the grating. The sweet vomit smell graced his nose. The babbling droned on, rising and falling, racing Fox's heartbeat for rhythm. Was it getting louder? He wasn't sure. It seemed to be all around them now.

There was something behind the grate, there had to be, they could smell it and they'd heard it moving towards it to break out and grab them but nothing was moving behind the walls anymore and the voice kept babbling, giggling, up and up the scale as their lights shined on the grate. _Is this what they mean by cold chills going up your back? _Fox thought. It wasn't pleasant. It started in his tail and festered in his stomach and went in waves around and up and down again like something alive. _Like something alive, _Fox thought, _yes. Like something alive. _

Fear is a communicable disease; it came out in the cold sweat in Fox's fur and passed from host to host. He could feel them sharing each other's fear, infecting each other as they gazed into the grating, waiting for something to happen. The babbling was no longer punctuated by giggles, now it was cries, choked breath-rattling sobs that rushed up the hallway into their ears. The sobbing grew louder, louder, and Fox and Krystal backed away from the grate, and they heard something cry from the juncture just around the corner. The light from Slippy's glowrod swept over the length of the hall, shining over a thin fleshy figure stumbling down the corridor, sobs erupting from her mouth. Fox barely saw it before Adelaide produced her old blaster pistol, pulled the trigger and flung it down the hall.

"Run for it!" Slippy wailed, and a blast of hot air slapped Fox across the face as a yellow explosion burst to life, engulfing the misshapen figure. His ears rang as he took off with the others, the wailing hollow screams of the thing rattling off the walls as the shadows were lit with orange light. Thuds and squeaks of movement in the walls were heard over the roaring crackle of flames as the creature screamed, and suddenly loud, jarring bangs rocked the walls. A gnarled, three-fingered claw dripping with slime tore through the wall and grabbed at Krystal, and she screamed and ducked out of the way.

"They're coming out of the _walls_!" Fox heard himself yelling, "They're coming out of the goddamned walls!"

Something squealed and clawed through a grate, a bloody mandible with pink tendrils writhing at Fox's face, and he could hear Slippy screaming as things tore through the walls for them. Fox was running, not aiming at anything, his way lit by the orange light of the flaming creature behind him. Adelaide was sprinting next to him, but a panel in the metal floor caved in, swallowed by a wide mouth with rings of needle-teeth. An oily black-green tentacle whipped around Adelaide's leg and she hit the ground with a scream.

Fox spun around, roaring "COVER ME!" as he dove for the feline and grabbed her hand. Her lavender eyes were swollen, glittering with the light of the fire as a massive force dragged the both of them a few meters across the metal floor. A guttural yell could be heard rumbling under them, and Fox could see another tar-like tentacle snake its way from the hole in the floor paneling, watching with horror as the tip of the tentacle divided into four pieces to form a wraithish hand. Krystal and Slippy fired blue and green blaster bolts over their heads as Fox brought up his rifle and took aim at the tentacle around Adelaide's leg, firing into it, but it kept dragging her towards the hole in the floor and the rings of teeth. She pressed Fox's EE-40 into the tentacle and opened fire as he blasted into it again, and the tentacle suddenly snapped back into the hole, the oily hand reaching for them as Fox dragged her to her feet.

A shadow swept over the flames near the end of the hall, the floor trembling as something _massive _stomped towards them, and he looked past the arms and tendrils reaching from the walls as it charged at them through the flames. Fox couldn't tell what it once was, it was too enormous to have ever been any _one _person, a hulking figure with a rotting skeletal head and twisted cages of bone erupting from it's back, one arm an oversized claw formed from several dozen arms with clutching fingers that had grown together.

Fox dragged Adelaide until she ran, catching up to Krystal and Slippy as the hulking monster bellowed and stomped after them. It's cries made the halls tremble and each rumbling step rattled the bulkheads, and Fox could see just at the end of the hall a heavy blast door with a painted shield. They sprinted, screaming towards the door as the thing's wails shook the hall, and Adelaide tore her name badge off her breast and smashed it into the door control panel. The doors slid slowly apart and they threw themselves between into the lit room, Adelaide clawing for the panel on the other side. A roar swept into the room as the doors moved to close, and the creature's enormous claw reached between the doors and tore at the ground near Fox's leg. Fox rolled across the ground as the door's alarms squawked, unable to close with the creature's massive arm blocking. Krystal appeared, Slippy's plasma cutter in hand, and the plasma blade extended with a high pitched whine and she brought it down on the claw. The creature howled as the plasma blade burned through flesh and bone, a puddle of black blood spattering over the floor.

Krystal lurched away as the doors closed and the massive claw fell to the ground, twitching, sprouting spindly legs from its sides and pointed toothed appendages from the bloody stump, giving off a chirping scream as it scuttled across the floor. Fox yelled, flying to his feet and firing a burst of blaster bolts into the thing, but it skittered towards him, the size of a small couch, pink tendrils lashing out from under maroon flesh. It turned around, the bloody stump formed into a toothed, puckering mouth, screeching open with a slithering tongue as it scraped across the floor, shrugging off the blaster bolts.

Fox felt his back against the wall and couldn't stop screaming as the thing charged closer, Slippy and Krystal screaming too before Adelaide appeared, a yellow-black rifle-shaped device in her hands with a blue flame glowing at the end. The feline grunted loudly and a stream of flame roared from the incinerator, soaking the claw-creature in fire. It screeched and trembled under the flames, new appendages snapping out of burning flesh, and Fox dove away as it screamed piercingly into the wall, trying to climb up to the ceiling. Adelaide spat as another stream of fire belched from the incinerator, swirling tongues of flame sweeping and billowing around the thing, burning into the ceiling and torching a glowpanel with a shower of sparks as the claw-creature collapsed to the ground with a squeak.

They watched it burn until the flames died down, not moving from where they were as the acrid burnt-flesh smell choked the room and smoke stung their eyes. A panel in the ceiling opened and a robotic arm emerged, blasting the blackened corpse with white fire retardant gas. They watched the scorched remains, the twisted spidery legs, to see if they moved. They didn't.

Adelaide was standing near Fox, breathing hard, gripping the incinerator in her hands. She gulped and looked at him.

"Thanks," Fox said, out of breath as the feline helped him up. Without a word, she drew his EE-40 blaster and handed it back to him. He took it and put it back in his holster, still trying to catch his breath.

It took a while to calm Slippy back down. The spoils from the forward security center were less than they'd expected, only two incinerators (including the one Adelaide had used), both with three quarters of a tank of fuel, and a handful of grenades. There were odd bangings on the blast doors, but they were much fainter and did not shudder or dent as the lounge doors did. They felt cautiously safe, even though Slippy's wet eyes could not stay off the claw-creature's smoldering body for more than a few moments.

Fox was sitting at a computer console, rows of flatscreens in front of him as he accessed the holocam footage. They accessed the feeds from twenty eight days ago (they had no desire to see what horrors may have walked the ship in the weeks since the outbreak) and combed through the footage.

"There she is," Adelaide remarked dryly, pointing to a screen as a thin, long-eared female lynx conversed with a squat amphibian in a lab coat. Over the chest of the lynx, the interface had projected a square with the label **[Ident: Lynch, Mara; RND PR-2]**

"That's Mara?" Fox inquired.

The cheetah nodded.

"She's very beautiful," Fox smiled. Adelaide only nodded again.

"Where were you while this was happening?" Krystal asked from the other side of Fox's chair.

"Sleeping," Adelaide answered, "When I woke up, she was gone and everything was going to hell."

"Are you sure you want to see what happened to her?" Fox asked.

She bit her lip.

"Maybe not. Can—can we stop this? Please?"

"Just look away," Fox said as kindly as he could, "We're trying to find out what happened. You said this was the lab where they were working on the core memory?"

"Yes," Adelaide said, unable to take her eyes off the screens.

The screen flickered as the lynx known as Mara walked into Lab A-12, then it froze. Fox's brow furrowed and he gazed at the screen, but nothing was moving around in the lab and Mara wasn't visible. He fast forwarded through the footage, hoping to find something useful, and he played the footage on normal speed when things started moving again.

They all saw it at the same time. Mara unfastening the capsule with the Aparoid core memory from it's base. Throwing the lab-coated reptilian that tried to stop her onto a table, then breaking his neck. Walking calmly out of the lab with the core memory in her arms.

Adelaide's violet eyes were wide with shock and denial, unable to look away as the three StarFox pilots stared at her. She looked at them, her lower jaw slack with confusion, taking in a breath to speak, maybe to explain.

Before she could utter a word, Fox, Krystal and Slippy brought up their guns and leveled them at her face.


	5. One of These Things

**-One of These Things is Not Like the Other-**

"Wait!" Adelaide snapped, eyes fixed on the blasters in her face, "Hold on a minute."

"Get on your knees," Fox ordered, "I want to see your hands. If you reach for anything, I'll put one between your eyes."

"Just calm down!" the cheetah urged, kneeling and slowly bringing her hands up, "I'm as confused as you."

"Doubtful," Fox replied, "Krystal, get the incinerator."

"Your girlfriend _released _these things and now it appears _you're _the only survivor," Krystal retorted as she hefted the yellow and black flamethrower unit and lit the igniter, "What would _you _think?"

"She knew enough to freeze herself until someone found her," Slippy added, "Think she helped sabotage it? Is this supposed to be some terrorist attack gone haywire?"

"You've got it wrong," Adelaide insisted through gritted teeth.

"I'm trying to decide if she helped create this mess or if she's just infected," Fox murmured calmly, "Maybe both."

"We could just send her out there," Krystal mused, "Then she's not our problem."

"They attacked me, too!" she spat, "I'm not one of them!"

"Doesn't prove anything," Slippy shook his head, "You wouldn't know if you were infected. Those things might not, either."

"We could tie her up and leave her" Fox proposed, "Might be best to just shoot her".

"Yeah, I'm on board with that," Slippy added, "If we're going to torch her, we should probably stand back."

"Wait!" Adelaide shouted, "I know what this looks like. But something else is happening here."

"You're not changing my mind. Keep your hands where I can see 'em," Fox growled, lining up the end of his blaster rifle with her nose.

"I'm not going to hurt any of you," the cheetah growled, her hands slowly making their way from the back of her head to the floor, "Just let me explain."

"You've got until the count of three to put your hands _behind your head_," Fox snarled.

"I just saved your life and now you're going to kill me?" Adelaide said coldly, her hands moving up to rest on her thighs.

"If I have to," he answered, "Hands behind your head. One..."

"Don't do this..."

"Two..."

"Goddamn you."

Fox was halfway through number three when Adelaide lunged forward and pulled something from behind her back. Slippy yelped in surprise and fired into the floor as Krystal lurched backwards. Fox pulled the trigger and three shots rang out, Adelaide screaming as one of the green bolts tore across her shoulder. He swept back, about to take another shot when he saw the silver sphere grasped in her hand. Adelaide lay on the floor, strands of brown hair splayed wildly over her body, her face twisted in pain from the smoking blaster shot in her left shoulder. The metal shell of the thermobaric grenade in her free hand glinted in the light of the glowpanels.

"I saw it in the weapon racks when we were getting supplies," she hissed, "I was saving it in case those things had me cornered. It's on a dead-man's switch; mess with me and we all go."

Fox paused. Krystal leveled the incinerator at Adelaide's body with a hard look in her eyes. The feline and the vixen traded glares.

"Go ahead, bitch. Burn me."

"Krystal..." Fox said cautiously. The vixen relaxed her grip, but the flaming blue business end of the incinerator was still leveled at the feline.

"Drop the weapons and back off," Adelaide ordered.

"No," Fox replied.

"You think I'm bluffing? On a night like _this?_" she snapped.

"One way to find out," Fox returned, "You wanted a chance to explain? Here you go. Or we could blow each other up."

The feline looked anxiously at the three of them, then she pushed up from the floor, wincing from the pain in her shoulder and keeping a careful grip on the grenade. She passed it from her right hand to her left, then gripped her hand around the wound as she looked at Fox.

"My name isn't Adelaide Ploughman," the cheetah said, "It's Alice Phoenix. I'm an operative with the Commonwealth Security Bureau."

"BULLSHIT," Fox spat, "You're not helping yourself."

"I can prove it!" she sent back, "I can put you in contact with my case officer."

"I don't _know _your case officer. He could just as easily be a saboteur as you."

"What do you want me to do?!" Alice snapped.

"Is she lying?" Fox inquired, sending Krystal a glance.

"Difficult to say," Krystal said, "In this state. All of her thoughts reflect a desire to survive. She could be telling the truth, she could be delusional. She could just be desperate. There's nothing going through her head that contradicts it."

"I'm _telling _the truth," Alice growled, "I don't know what you fucking want from me."

Fox glanced over Alice's shoulder to Slippy, who was calmly, slowly entering commands into his wrist-mounted data assistant, his automatic blaster pistol tucked into its holster. Fox had heard Slippy mention a program he was writing that could theoretically disable an opponent's gun by remote. Was he trying to do that with the grenade? _Could _he do that? Either way, Fox hoped Alice didn't notice it. He looked back at the cheetah, trying to keep her eyes on him.

"Give us something we can use," Fox growled, "A reason to believe you."

Alice swallowed, glancing to the side. Her grip tightened around the grenade and Fox cautiously brought his finger to the trigger.

"I'm...going to give you an InterLink Protocol number," Alice said slowly, "You've got a mother ship, right? Call this number: Star, 2001, colon, CT.0. As soon as you establish a connection, recite these words exactly: Operative Firestarter calling Den Mother. ComSec Op 625982 is status Delta-Romeo-Alpha, request attention."

"And _that's _going to prove you're with the CSB?" Fox demanded skeptically, his green eyes narrowed.

"That's the best I can do," Alice hissed, gripping her grenade.

Fox looked at Slippy, carefully hiding his work at his data assistant. He looked back at Alice's determined violet eyes. Then he put a hand to the microphone on his headset.

"Peppy?" Fox whispered.

* * *

"Yeah, I heard it, Fox," Peppy Hare replied into his headset, sitting in the command chair on the bridge of the _Great Fox_. Three large holographic windows were displayed in front of him, showing the view from the internal holocams on the headsets of Fox, Krystal and Slippy. All of them were focused on the tense feline in the forward security center of the _Starghast_. Through the viewport, he could see the hulking brown ship itself, and below the expansive rusty globe of Titania. Falco Lombardi was posted at the communications console next to ROB, trying to improve the connection with the _Pleiades _enough to pilot the shuttle back to the landing bay. Both the avian and the rabbit were trying their best to keep calm and do what they could as they watched the nightmare on the ship unfold like a late-night horror flick. Peppy felt grateful that he could finally do something besides just watch.

"ROB," Peppy grunted, "Connect me to the nearest comm buoy in the area. I need to enter an IP number for a call."

"**Affirmative**," ROB said, and an input screen appeared on the computer console mounted on the right arm of the command chair.

Peppy entered *2001: CT.0, then slowly pressed the icon to establish the transmission.

The holodisplays showing the feeds from Fox, Krystal and Slippy slid over to the side as the glowing green letters appeared in front of Peppy reading **Calling: Unknown Number**. The letters flickered as a slight crackling came through the sound system.

"What's happening, ROB?" Peppy inquired.

"**The number you have entered corresponds to the Cornerian holocom network**," the android replied, "**The channel is heavily encrypted. It is likely a government channel**."

"Is it the Verdenhal?" Peppy inquired. If the number contacted the CSB, Peppy would expect to be connected to the Bureau's secretive Corneria City headquarters, an ancient, vine-covered castle that had housed knights and secret police since before the old empire.

"**Unknown**," ROB said, "**But it appears the transmission has been accepted.**"

ROB had barely finished his sentence when the green words disappeared and the projectors drew the ghostly image of a heavy gray slab of a desk. Behind the desk, sitting in a high-backed leather office chair was a thin, middle-aged arctic wolf. She wore a tight charcoal gray pantsuit over a tawny v-neck blouse, framing a necklace of black pearls. Her piercing golden eyes, normally stoic and unreadable, widened in visible surprise at the sight of Peppy Hare.

"How did you get this number?" the she-wolf demanded, rising out of her chair.

"Morrow," Peppy grimaced, "I would say it was nice to see you, but I think lying gives me migraines."

"This is my _office_. How did you get this number, Hare?" Gillian Morrow repeated icily, flashing sharp canine teeth.

Peppy shifted in his seat, trying not to savor too much the effect that his silence seemed to have on the Director of the CSB. He'd never seen Morrow so clearly _bothered _before. Even during his brief time as General of the Cornerian Armed Forces, jockeying for power against her, nothing could break her legendary cool. He suppressed the urge to smile.

"It's the reason I'm calling right now," Peppy answered, "I have some questions."

"_You _have questions?" Morrow rumbled, "And what of mine? You are aware that unauthorized use of classified comm channels violates the State Secrets Act? Just this conversation is enough to get you five years, minimum. That's not even _scratching _what it lets me do to your StarFox Team. After all, if they can hack secret government channels, who _knows _what other misconduct?"

"One of your operatives gave me the number, Morrow," Peppy sent back, "I'm calling to verify her identity."

"Somehow I doubt that," the she-wolf said.

"What's your interest in the Corporate Research Vessel _Starghast_? Orbiting Titania?"

"None," Morrow hissed, "You're wasting your time. And mine. Agents operate as public representatives of the CSB, they carry badges and have our full support if required. _Operatives _are non-official covers. They work in secret, have no ties to the Bureau, and if they're caught they're trained _not _to identify themselves. Likewise, we deny all knowledge of them. If you _did _have an operative, they wouldn't tell you to call me."

"Does the name Alice Phoenix ring a bell?" Peppy grunted, rolling his eyes. Behind Morrow's hologram, Falco looked over his shoulder to watch their exchange.

"No," the Director returned, "Tell me, even if you did find one of my operatives and _coerce _them to identify themselves, what makes you think _I _could verify it? Do you know how many hundreds, _thousands _of spies I have throughout the Lylat System? Do you think I know what every one of them is doing at any given time?"

"I think you know what I had for _breakfast _three days ago," Peppy retorted, "You're a pathological, micromanaging control freak. So yes."

Gillian Morrow sniffed out a stunted laugh, smirking a bit as she shook her head. Then the she-wolf settled into her chair, regarding him with impenetrable golden orbs.

"I'm going to disconnect now, Lieutenant Commander," the she-wolf said, "Then I'm going to secure a warrant for your arrest-"

"Operative Firestarter calling Den Mother," Peppy growled, "ComSec Op 625982 is status Delta-Romeo-Alpha, request attention."

The white wolf froze. She sat back and crossed her arms.

"You must enjoy testing me," Morrow glowered.

"Is Alice Phoenix one of yours?" Peppy demanded.

"Yes," the she-wolf sighed, "Codename Firestarter."

"Well, I guess that changed your tune," Peppy grunted, "What's Delta-Romeo-Alpha mean?"

Gillian Morrow narrowed golden eyes hatefully at Peppy.

"It's a correspondence code," the she-wolf said, "The only kind an operative can issue that we'll acknowledge. It indicates the operative's cover has been compromised, but they've discovered a direct threat to Corneria or the Commonwealth worlds. She'd be disavowed and face charges of treason for a false alarm. It doesn't require much to imagine what Firestarter might be referring to, given her assignment."

"She's on the _Starghast _with Fox right now," he replied, "What was her mission?"

"Helix Biotech won the contract to study the core memory, but with the condition that they perform their experiments in an isolated orbital environment," Morrow answered, "The Prime Minister wasn't satisfied. He wanted extra insurance against the Aparoids being a threat again. I agreed, so I put Firestarter on the ship."

"And what was she supposed to _do_?" Peppy probed.

"Observe and report," Morrow replied, "Nothing more."

* * *

"Fox," Peppy's voice crackled in his ear.

"Yeah?" he replied, keeping his rifle aimed at Alice.

"It checks out," Peppy reported, "The number she gave patched me right into Gillian Morrow's office. She told me everything after I said the exact words she told us to. Morrow says she's one of theirs. Her mission was to monitor the _Starghast _to make sure something like this didn't happen."

"Then what about the other one?" Krystal remarked, "Her lover, Mara?"

"Mara's with the Bureau, too," Alice said from the floor, still gripping the grenade tightly, "Her name's Miyu Lynx. Codename Mockingbird."

"Morrow never mentioned another agent," Peppy replied, "I've got her on hold now, I can ask her."

"Don't," Fox said, "How do we know we can trust Morrow? After last time?"

"I think it's safe to say Morrow's not infected," Peppy remarked, "And that she wouldn't _want _the Aparoids back from the dead."

"She was perfectly fine with Andross' best ship and one of his superweapons," Fox mentioned, "Maybe she thinks it's possible to control the Aparoids, too."

Alice, unable to hear Peppy's words, narrowed her eyes in confusion. Fox looked back at her.

"Part of your story checks out," the StarFox leader said, "Part of it doesn't. Morrow never mentioned your friend."

"Of course she didn't," Alice retorted, "She wouldn't compromise another operative's cover unless she absolutely had to."

"That could be," Fox shrugged, "Or maybe Miyu was a mercenary. Maybe you're a crooked CSB spook and you were planning to steal the core memory and sell it to the highest bidder with her. Maybe she left you for dead. Or she screwed up and released the nanites instead of getting away."

"Stop it," Alice growled, "She's not like that."

"You keep saying that," Fox replied, "We saw her kill that scientist and steal the core. That means the blood of everyone who's died here is on her hands."

"I don't _know _what happened with Miyu," Alice snarled, "We've known each other for _years_. Had other missions together. She's never done anything like this. I'm still processing it. But I wasn'ta part of it."

"Fox, what should I do?" Peppy asked, "Should I ask Morrow about Miyu as well?"

"No," Fox answered, "We'll upload the footage to the _Great Fox_, but let's keep a lid on it for now. The more things we know that Morrow thinks we don't, the easier it is to sniff out a double-cross. For now, at least it proves Helix Biotech didn't release the nanites. Holds up our end of the deal."

"Gotcha," Peppy replied, "I'll try to get rid of her."

"So what does that mean for me?" Alice inquired, "Do we just spend the next few hours in a standoff?"

The feline brought the grenade up a little bit as if to remind them that her finger was still on the dead-man's switch. Fox glanced over to Slippy, wondering if he'd somehow been able to disarm the grenade. The amphibian looked at him for a moment, and didn't indicate one way or another.

"All we know for sure is that you're CSB," Fox growled, "We don't know if you were doing your mission or if you helped Miyu infect the ship. We don't know if you're still a person, or if underneath you're one of those _things_-"

"And how do I know all of _you _aren't infected?"

"If we were infected, we would've just attacked you when we pulled you out of the conservator," Fox reasoned.

"And if I wanted you dead I could've let you die in the hallway back there. I had the only key, remember? I wouldn't have saved you from that thing that tried to kill you _ten minutes ago_," Alice growled. Fox tried not to look at the charred corpse of the claw-creature slumped in the blackened corner of the room. He just kept his focus on Alice.

"Put yourself in our position."

"Fuck you."

Fox breathed, shaking his head.

"You know we still can't trust you," Fox told her.

"So how do we fix that?"

"You could start by putting the bomb down," Krystal quipped.

"Let's just rush her, she won't blow us all up," Slippy reasoned.

Alice looked back at him with violet eyes, fully in control, no touch of hesitation. Slippy stayed where he was.

"Any other bright ideas?" Alice inquired.

Fox cleared his throat.

"We can do a test," he said, "Any cells infected with nanites are denser than normal cells. Isn't that right, Slippy?"

The amphibian's mouth twisted.

"Erm... I guess. I don't know for sure about un-transformed subjects. We've only seen that in the cells of creatures that we've already killed. I don't know about latent cases, or how good it would be for actually _detecting _if someone's infected..." Slippy remarked.

"Work with me here," Fox grumbled.

"It'll at least be able to show if the infection's spread throughout the person's whole system," Slippy remarked, "She's been in stasis nearly a month, it would've stopped the spread of the infection."

"I'm not _infected_," Alice snarled, "Go on. Test me. Let's get it over with."

Slippy took a step towards her, pausing to look up at Fox. Fox nodded lightly, and Slippy took out his omnigraphic analyzer.

"I'll have to take some of your blood," Slippy remarked, producing a scalpel.

Alice sighed and offered her arm, still gripping the thermobaric grenade. Slippy looked at her nervously and made a very low, nearly inaudible sound.

"For fuck's sake, just do it," Alice breathed.

Slippy gulped and brought the blade to her arm.

* * *

"What's the issue with the slave-circuit?" Peppy said, looking past the holodisplays at Falco.

"I dunno," the avian shrugged, "Some kinda interference keeps comin' an' goin'. I'll get a connection for a few seconds, but when tha' ship starts moving it craps out."

"Keep trying."

"What do ya' think I've been doin' for tha' past half hour? I keep trying and it's not workin'," Falco muttered, going back to work.

"What do you mean it's not _working?_" Peppy grunted, "This is _supposed _to be the freaking _future_."

"You need to keep me in the loop on this," Morrow's hologram instructed calmly, still sitting at her ghostly desk in front of the command chair.

"Why would I do that?" Peppy remarked, his ears twitching, "We're not friends."

"I just compromised an operative's cover for you, I have a personal investment in this matter," Morrow sent back.

"She compromised it to save her own ass. Try again."

"Then think of it as the price for not having charges brought against you for unauthorized use of government channels," the she-wolf growled.

"Maybe you forgot the last time my little guy club and your big spy club worked together?" Peppy asked, "There was a lot of _you _keeping _us _in the dark, a lot of _you _manipulating _us _into doing the PM's dirty work, and in the end, a lot of Commonwealth-fucking-Marines shooting at my friends on _your _orders."

"Deal with it," Morrow leered, "If you're under the impression that you have some sort of _bargaining _power here, you are mistaken. Apparently, the situation on the _Starghast _is a Delta-Romeo-Alpha. I can only assume we're dealing with a full-on Aparoid infestation of that ship. Don't tell me I'm wrong, I'm not_ stupid_."

Peppy's jaw tightened as Morrow continued.

"I would be well within my rights if I warped a fleet over Titania and _atomized _it to the last bolt. The Prime Minister would commend me for preventing another Aparoid invasion, and I guarantee it wouldn't make a difference if every one of your friends died with them. It would be seen as a necessary sacrifice, collateral damage to spare the people of Lylat another horror."

"I have a feeling there's a 'however' on the way," Peppy said quietly.

"However," the she-wolf smiled, "There are considerations. Titania is politically neutral and non-soverign, the largest settlement is owned by Macbeth. A Cornerian fleet over the planet, for whatever reason, is touchy enough to warrant avoiding if possible. After all, Helix Biotech's research was supposed to be secret, to avoid public outcry. It's preferable that Firestarter return alive to CSB custody for debriefing. And this currently falls under the parameters of the contract between StarFox and the company. As long as this matter remains confined to the ship, of course."

Peppy's eyes narrowed behind his glasses and he flexed his hands.

"You'll keep your hands off as long as we contain it to the _Starghast_?" Peppy inquired, shifting in his chair.

"Provided I am kept informed of the situation, provided you can keep it from spreading beyond the ship... I see no reason to interfere. For the moment, at least," Morrow maintained.

"Okay then," Peppy returned slowly, regarding Morrow the same way he might a poisonous snake, "I'll let you know if anything changes."

"Peppy," she said, remarkably soft.

Peppy paused. Morrow's sharp face, her intensely gold eyes, had shed some of their hardness.

"Despite our differences, the two of us have always concerned ourselves with the safety of the Commonwealth and it's people. We may not agree on what that entails, but here we stand together. When the Aparoids came, Lylat faced the prospect of total extermination. That cannot be allowed to happen again," the white wolf said in a hushed tone, "If this spreads beyond that ship, you're going to _need _my help."

Peppy gave her a slow and quiet nod as the transmission ended.

* * *

"Okay," Slippy breathed, his bulbous blue eyes scanning over the cells displayed in the holographic window of his omnigraphic analyzer.

"Do you see anything? Anything out of the ordinary?" Fox probed, glancing back and forth from Slippy to Alice as she crouched on the floor, the grenade still in her hands.

"Gimme a second, I just got started," Slippy grimaced, reading over data displayed next to the window. Alice was staring at him with wide eyes and a restless jaw, as if herself afraid of what Slippy's diagnosis might be.

"Cellular density appears normal," the amphibian stated, manipulating some icons on the taskbar, "Exposing her cells to the sample of mine from before. If she's infected, the nanites should spread from her cells, replicate themselves and infiltrate mine."

Fox tightened his grip on the rifle, feeling the butt rest snugly against his shoulder. Alice's eyes met his, and he tried to intuitively feel if what was looking at him was normal or not. The feeling persisted that Alice was not to be trusted. Krystal shifted her stance as her bottlebrush tail curled uncomfortably.

New pinkish globs of Slippy's cells became visible in the holographic window. They drifted together with the others like a flock of balloons, recoiling from each other but otherwise staying inert.

"Well, there aren't any nanites..." Slippy muttered.

"See?" Alice demanded, "I told you. Do you trust me now?"

"Are we sure she isn't infected?" Krystal inquired.

"Oh come on! What more do you want?" the feline snapped.

"It's not really conclusive," Slippy remarked, "It just proves the nanites aren't spread throughout her entire system. She could still have them somewhere, isolated by the stasis field."

"Look, we've all been through a lot lately," Alice growled, "Some more than others. But if it's not too much trouble, I'd rather not spend all night SITTING ON THIS FUCKING FLOOR! Just make up your minds already, shoot me or let me up!"

Slippy looked to Fox for input. Krystal glanced at him from the corner of her eye, flamethrower still leveled at Alice. The CSB operative glared with violet eyes framed by a snarling furred muzzle. Fox swallowed, the fur on his shoulders prickling unpleasantly beneath his white jacket. He couldn't decide which made him less comfortable, risking infection in all of them or killing what could be the only survivor of this mess. The grenade in Alice's hand didn't make it any easier.

It was his call to make.

_Trust your instincts_, a voice from the past echoed in Fox's head, _Don't hesitate. When the time comes, just act_.

His finger caressed the trigger of his blaster rifle, and he locked on to Alice's leering, indignant eyes. Then he lowered the rifle at the floor.

"She stays with us for now," Fox concluded, nodding tentatively, "She knows the ship better than we do. And we're not killing anything unless we're _sure _it's one of them."

"And what if we can't be sure until it's too late?" Krystal probed, incinerator still leveled at the feline.

"That's a risk we'll have to take," he answered.

Krystal took a step back and lowered the incinerator unit, aquamarine eyes still wavering in Alice's direction. The cheetah looked at all of them carefully, then slid the thumb-switch on the grenade forward, attaching it to her belt as she picked herself up from the floor. She winced and grimaced at the scorched blaster shot in her shoulder, brushing a lock of brown hair out of her eyes.

"I've got some provitate and synthflesh," Slippy remarked, opening a pouch in his StarFox jacket and producing a white case marked with a bold red cross.

"Does your arm still work?" Fox inquired, stepping forward.

"I'll live," Alice said, accepting a bottle of provitate salve and a synthflesh bandage from Slippy.

"Sorry about that," the vulpine frowned.

"Guess I should be thankful I didn't take it in the face," she muttered, walking over to a corner of the security room, passing the burned carcass of the claw-creature.

Alice unzipped her blue uniform and shrugged out her bare left shoulder, looking over the grayish patch of flesh amongst the golden fur and black spots.

"So," Krystal remarked firmly, and Fox realized he'd been staring at the feline, "What's our next move?"

Fox met Krystal's sharp face, tried to read what she was thinking, and found little more than a wall.

"We download the footage proving that Miyu released the nanites," Fox said, "Then we search the holocam network over the ship, see if we can find where the central Source of the infection is. Then we go there and we destroy it."

"It's likely wherever the core memory is," Slippy speculated, taking a seat at the computer console with banks of holoscreens viewing the security network, "If there's some remnant of the Queen's consciousness, it was probably preserved inside in some very basic form. Once the nanites became active and started reproducing, it likely built on that remnant to create a hive mind."

"Then how did they become active?" Krystal mused, moving behind the chair and looking over Slippy's shoulder at the screens, "I thought all the nanites from the core memory were inert. That's why they were deemed safe to study."

"I'm downloading the footage from the lab and uploading it to the _Great Fox_," Slippy remarked, his fingers dancing across the input keys before speaking into his headset microphone, "Peppy, you should be getting a data packet from me. Do you see it?"

"Yep, I got it Slip," Peppy's voice came back over their headset comms.

"Miyu mentioned something about the nanites," Alice said, coming forward, zipping up her uniform as she moved towards the console, "There was a theory about something called a "source proxy." That if the nanites were introduced to a controlled neural network interface, one that was basic enough, they would react, even integrate with the network enough to become active, like a substitute Queen that would respond to commands. She said the idea was to introduce them slowly enough that their reproduction could be controlled and isolated. Since the Queen was destroyed there wasn't a risk they'd naturally be hostile. I guess they were wrong about that part."

Fox was the last to join them at the security console, keeping his eyes carefully on Alice, determined not to turn his back on her. There was a part of him that hoped she would show some sign of being infected, maybe a tremor or a ripple of rearranging biomass under her fur. At least then he would know for sure.

"Yeah, that could explain it," Slippy pondered, "A single nanite on it's own wouldn't have the computing power to spread, not without some sort of supporting structure backing it up. That's how the Aparoids worked. The simpler, weaker ones were only dangerous if they were in a group, since they shared computing power. They became smarter and more intricate as they increased in size and complexity. The Queen was the most complex of all the Aparoids, and she was the basis for all of the others. How much of this research was Miyu a part of?"

"Enough," said Alice.

"I suppose that's how she knew enough to release the nanites and infect everyone on the ship," Krystal murmured.

"Watch it," the feline grunted.

"Wouldn't VIRGIS be a neural network-based AI?" Fox inquired, "If it's infected, isn't that the most likely place for the Source?"

"Oh yeah," Slippy nodded, "That does seem like the best possibility. The core memory was exposed to VIRGIS' AI core, the neural network was similar enough to the initial structure that the nanites spread and began to integrate with the circuitry. Whatever was left of the Queen's consciousness, lying dormant in the core memory, responded to the structure of the computer system. It leeches processing power from the core, the nanites multiply exponentially, and they completely assimilate the system, using the structure already in place as a foundation for a Source hive mind. It might take a few minutes, at most. And when its done, the nanites have an ideal centralized network to spread throughout the ship and infect members of the crew. Of course, that's just conjecture. It doesn't explain why the nanites transform the host cells instead of imposing Aparoid structures on them. If anything, these Aparoids should be _more _mechanical and less organic in nature, given their basis."

"We're not here to explain it or understand it," Fox growled, "We only need to know one thing: where they _are_."

"The AI core is in the command mound of the ship, right under the bridge," Alice answered, "Surveillance grid forty eight."

"Accessing grids forty five through fifty two," Slippy murmured, typing in commands on the keyboard

The rows of holoscreens flickered and changed one after another, displaying new sections of the ship with darkened corridors illuminated in enhanced, black and white infrared footage. With two rows near the middle of the grid, representing grids forty eight and forty nine, all that was visible in every screen was a shimmering, garbled snow of visual noise. Each screen went black, with the words **NO INPUT FOUND **flashing bold red in the center.

"Something disabled the holocams in those grids," Slippy sighed.

"I'm taking that to mean there's something in that part of the ship the Source doesn't want us to see," Fox said.

"Seems pretty likely," the amphibian nodded, adjusting his cap a bit further back on the top of his head, between his bulging eyes.

"Forty eight and forty nine include the bridge, navigation controls, AI core and the surrounding areas," Alice remarked.

"It's our best bet for finding the Source," Fox said.

"Or a trap," Alice retorted, "These things are smart, right? Or they're controlled by something that is. It wants to survive and spread more than anything. Maybe it took out those cameras knowing we'd investigate. To draw us back out into the corridors. That area's about halfway across the ship from here. That's a long trek with these things running around."

"It's also the most likely location for the central control of these things. Unless there's something you're not telling us. If you're trying to _discourage _us from going there. Trying to protectit," Fox interrogated.

"Are serious right now?" Alice snapped.

"Oh," Krystal gasped.

Alice continued, her black nose wrinkled and her lips pulled fiercely back from feline teeth, too focused on Fox to notice Krystal's reaction, "If I'm going to put up with this shit all night I might as well take my chances on my own, at least I won't worry about getting torched by a bunch of hero-types hyped up on paranoi-"

"There," Krystal interjected, pointing at a lower row of holoscreens on the grid, "Right there. Do you all see it? That isn't one of them!"

Fox looked away from Alice to the screen Krystal was indicating, in the row dedicated to surveillance grid fifty two.

He saw a white, well-lit room somewhere on the ship, with a pair of heavy blast doors sealed shut. Standing next to the blast doors was a tired-looking equine in a blue security uniform with black armor padding similar to Alice's. He held in his hands what appeared to be a blaster rifle, and the interface had drawn a square box over his chest with the label **[Ident: Allred, Brian P.; Sec PR-4]**

"He wouldn't be carrying a blaster if he was one of them," Fox murmured.

"Or an ID badge for the cameras to identify," Alice whispered, "No way."

"Where is that?" Fox investigated.

"That's the mess hall complex," the feline answered quietly, her mouth open in astonishment, "Grids fifty two through fifty four. It's not possible..."

Slippy's hands flew across the keyboard, entering a new command, and three rows of holoscreens in the center changed, showing various views of what appeared to be the same white-walled, well-lit area of the _Starghast_. On all of the screens they saw barricades, strong and sturdy closed doors, makeshift sleeping bunks, and dozens of people moving around, standing watch or trying to sleep under bright white lights, all with square icons over their chests with name and ranks identified.

"The mess hall is a fortified area of the ship," Alice explained in a breath, scanning the screens with disbelief, "It's got food production facilities, a medical bay, it's own independent generators and life support systems. It can be used as a panic room in case of an emergency where the escape pods can't be used, like a pirate attack or a runaway decompression. VIRGIS launched most of the escape pods before we could get to them, so half of the security force focused on getting as many people as they could into the mess hall and sealing it off. I...I never thought they made it, or...or I guess I figured there was no way they could last this long without something getting in...but there they are."

"Survivors," Fox said, allowing himself a faint smile, "They've held out this whole time."

"There must be dozens of them," Krystal remarked.

"The cameras count forty four ID badges, and there might be even more of them in blind spots or without a badge," Slippy informed them.

"This changes everything," Fox stated, "If there's a chance we can save them, we have to."

"How do we do _that_? We can't get off this ship ourselves, how are we supposed to rescue dozens of people?" Slippy inquired.

"Peppy and Falco are working on retrieving the _Pleiades_," Fox said, "They'll probably have it online by the time we reach the mess hall. Show me the complex in the ship's schematics."

Slippy opened his data assistant and the holographic model of the _Starghast _appeared as a yellow wire-frame in the air over the input keyboard. Parallel to the command mound of the ship, sticking out from the starboard side of the hull, a wedge-shaped section began to blink green.

"Perfect," Fox remarked, "It's part of the outer hull and it's relatively close to the AI core. Do we have the tools on the _Great Fox _to use the docking ring of the shuttle as a makeshift breach umbilical?"

Slippy sat back, his eyes half closed as he stroked his thumb under his lower lip pensively.

"Maybe," Slippy mused, "I might be able to walk Falco through it if he listens close enough. You want to cut through the hull? Even if we stuffed them all in the shuttle's cargo hold, we couldn't fit all of the survivors in one trip."

"We go to the mess hall," Fox proposed, "Secure the survivors. Then Falco brings the shuttle up to the hull. Cuts through. We find a way to re-seal the breach so that we can ferry groups of survivors over to the _Great Fox_. Once everyone's safe, we use the mess hall as a base to move against the Source in the command mound. We'll even be able to stock up on incendiaries and flamethrowers from the armory."

Slippy nodded slowly, stroking the pale vocal sac under his lower lip before covering it up with the red scarf around his neck.

"We get everyone out with minimal casualties and we shut this thing down," Fox advocated, "What do you think, Peppy?"

"It's feasible," Peppy returned over the comms, "Optimistic, but it's feasible, assuming we can get control over the shuttle in time. We're going to move the _Great Fox _closer to the shuttle to see if we can establish contact with the slave circuit. I'll tell you how it goes."

"You know, I have _no _idea what your guy on the other end is saying in your ears," Alice remarked, "It's kind of weird to see you guys basically talking to yourselves."

"He agrees that it's possible," Fox explained, "I think it's the best plan. We save lives and we stop these things in the safest way. Krystal, can you feel anything?"

The azure-furred vixen glanced up at the ceiling and closed her eyes in concentration.

"It still knows we're here," she murmured, "It still wants us. But it knows I'm listening. I think it's trying to hide something from me."

"Oh, well _that's _useful," Alice quipped, "Sorry, I meant _vague_. And maybe a little pointless."

"Sensing the thought patterns of an alien life form isn't a _science_," Krystal hissed, "I'd like to see you have a crack at it."

"Look, you can give some Cub Scout talk about saving lives and trust in your magic mood radar all you want, that's fine," Alice snapped, "It doesn't change the fact that there's a ship full of freaks between us and the mess hall, and we don't have _near _enough fuel in these incinerators to make it through those corridors."

Fox's brow furrowed with aggravation as Krystal's aqua eyes sharpened in Alice's direction.

"The plan isn't just optimistic, it's _unrealistic_," Alice growled, "You're assuming there's some easy way to move across this ship without them tearing us apart. There isn't. The long way is suicide. The short cuts just might be, too. And even if we did make it outside the mess hall, there's nothing to say they would let _us _through the barricades. The whole infection thing makes trust a bit of a problem, and the ones in the mess hall _definitely _didn't survive by taking chances."

Fox scrutinized the CSB operative quietly. She could have a point. Or she could be intentionally leading them in the wrong direction. He still didn't know, and that was the worst part.

"So what's your idea? It's not like we have the firepower to just head for the Source. No matter what, there's a ship full of freaks between us and something. At least the mess hall's fortified against them. Slippy might be able to hack the doors to get us in," Fox said.

"How much time do you think we'll have to get through the doors when those things are coming out of the walls?" Alice said, "Both times you've found a door to hide behind, one of them came in with you. We've been lucky before. How many close calls before our luck runs out?"

Fox's facial muscles relaxed and his tail went limp at Alice's last words.

"I still haven't heard a better idea from you," Fox said, shifting his stance, "You said something about short cuts? I'm guessing ways we can avoid the hallways?"

Alice nodded.

"If we're going to head for the mess hall, we can't go the long way. There are two short cuts through the ship we could use. One of them might be a worse idea than the corridors. The other one you won't like."

Fox crossed his arms, feeling his blaster rifle hang by the strap around his neck.

"What's the one I won't like?"

The corner of Alice's mouth turned upwards in a smile. Fox didn't trust what he saw working behind those violet eyes.

"There's an emergency turbolift that works differently from the others on the ship," Alice explained, "Redundant power supply, reinforced, independent from VIRGIS's control. It runs on a path from the landing bay to just outside of the mess hall complex. Even if those things make it into the shaft, once the lift starts moving it'll plow right through them. It's for moving personnel from one side of the ship to the mess hall and the escape pods quickly, if the interior of the ship gets compromised. There's a place nearby that we can board the lift."

"I like this so far," Fox remarked.

"Oh, it gets better," Alice said, "We can reach the lift access maybe ten minutes after we leave this room. We just have to walk through the botanical labs."

"I have yet to hear the bad part," Krystal said.

"Well, it's a botanical lab," the feline shrugged, "It's not just used for research; it supplements the atmosphere scrubbers providing oxygen and absorbing carbon dioxide. Meaning it's one of the most oxygen-rich rooms on the whole ship. Even with combustion filters, a small flame in that room could cause an explosion if it got out of control. To make sure that doesn't happen, the room has a _very _effective fire suppression system that will put out any flame within two seconds of ignition. Are you starting to see the bad part?"

Fox's jaw felt loose. He swallowed as he thought about it, and Slippy let out a painful groan.

"We can't use incinerators," Fox said quietly, "If we try, the system will put the flames out. If there's anything in there, we won't be able to stop it."

"There you go, ace," Alice said, "You found the bad part."

"How big is the botanical lab?"

"About fifty by fifty meters, and filled with rows of hydroponic grow-stands."

"That's...great," Fox sighed.

"Oh, God, are we really thinking about this?" Slippy whined, "What about the other short cut? There's no way it's worse than this."

"Trust me," Alice said, "It's worse. I'd much rather go this way than the other way."

"There _must _be some other way," Krystal said, "One you may not know about. Perhaps we could find it on the ship's schematics."

"There _isn't_," Alice maintained, "I would know."

Fox glanced at her carefully. She was very eager to get them into this room where they couldn't use a flamethrower.

Her violet eyes met his, and Fox almost felt the aura of feeling from her, reflected back at him like a mirror. The suspicion, curiosity, the creeping sensation of being scrutinized like a insect under a microscope, or a body on a slab. Illuminating one another in a search light of focus, hoping to reveal crucial, darkened details, instead only blinded by the other's light. Did she know he didn't trust her? Did she suspect him of hiding something of his own, under his fur, beneath his flesh? Was this a short cut to safety, or a ploy to nullify their only protection?

There was only one way to know.

If this was a trap, perhaps expecting it would allow Fox to set one of his own.

"Alright then," Fox nodded, softening his eyes and glancing at his teammates, "It doesn't look like we have much choice. And there's no excuse to linger here. You can show us to the lab?"

Alice said yes.

"Then lead the way," Fox replied, cocking his head towards the heavy doors, "Krystal, stay next to her, I'll keep up the rear. Slippy, stay between us. Let's move fast, it's not that far."

They gathered up what little supplies the security center had been able to offer, the handful of grenades and an extra plasma cutter, and Slippy made quick modifications to both to extend the blades, in order to put more space between them and whatever they had to cut. Krystal stepped forward and slipped the blaster rifle from around her neck, handing it to Alice and keeping a hold of the incinerator in her hands. Fox handed his blaster rifle to Slippy and took hold of the other incinerator. It was bulky and awkward and much heavier in the back of the weapon than towards the front, but the low hiss of the blue igniter flame made Fox more confident about journeying into the halls. A digital readout told him that there was seventy-two percent of the fuel capacity in the tank.

"Okay," Alice said, holding her ID badge in her hand and walking towards the blast doors, "We're going to be moving right for about thirty meters, then up a staircase. The entrance to the lab won't be far from that."

Fox nodded, and waited until Alice's back was turned, then stared intensely at Krystal until she looked back at him.

_Watch her_, Fox mouthed silently, visualizing the words vividly in his head, hoping she would understand. Krystal's jaw tightened and she nodded slowly, glancing at Alice with a blank face.

"You guys ready?" Alice said, looking over her shoulder from the door console.

"When you are," Fox replied.

The CSB spy brought her name badge up to the console and the door beeped, heavily grinding apart to let them exit. The dark corridors stretching in front of them were empty of anything moving, but Fox could still see the evidence: the torn metal paneling where things had burst through the walls and floor, faint dents in the ground where the massive creature's feet had stomped down in pursuit, the drying black-red pool on both sides of the doorway from the claw-creature's amputation. Once again, things were quiet as the _Starghast _waited for them to make the first move.

Alice and Slippy lit the flashlights at the end of their blaster rifles, the pale beam from Slippy's trembling as he swept it across the walls. The igniters at the end of both incinerators created a slightly pleasant glow in the darkness, but not enough to see clearly ahead. Even with a flamethrower, Fox would've felt better with a more adequate source of light.

"This way," Alice muttered, guiding them down the corridor to the right of the blast doors. Moving step by step after his companions, Fox divided his time equally between watching Krystal, Slippy and Alice in front of him and casting uneasy glances at the encroaching darkness behind. The lights through the open doors of the security center slipped further away, then the doors ground shut and the shadows wrapped around Fox like a blanket. Even with Slippy just ahead, armed with a flashlight, Fox could feel the cold weight of the dark all around.

He dug his fingers into the incinerator, trying to take solace in the quiet howl of the igniter flame, but he could only think about how it could mask approaching steps. The fur on the back of his neck prickled, and every hard surface and crooked edge of the surrounding corridor seemed a place of evil. Fox swallowed saliva and glanced over his shoulder. There was only black.

"Slip," Fox croaked, "Give me the flashlight from your rifle. Use your glowrod if you need to."

"What's the matter, Fox?" Alice purred, turning back and shining the beam of her rifle's flashlight under her chin, "You're not scared, are you?"

"You could always give me yours," Fox shrugged, "Unless _you're_ afraid of the dark."

"I'll hold on to it," the feline quipped, "Makes Krystal feel better."

"Oh, _please_," Krystal groaned, "I know for a fact all of you are afraid. It's like a _stink_."

"Are you trying to say you're _not_?" Alice prodded.

"Of course not. I'm frightened, you're frightened. There's plenty to go around, and given the circumstances only a fool wouldn't be afraid."

"It's embarrassing," Slippy murmured, fiddling with the flashlight on his rifle, "To think about being afraid, I mean."

"We're all in it together, you know," Fox said, trying to be reassuring, "It's worse if you try not to show it."

"Easy for you to say," Slippy grimaced, unclipping the flashlight from the rifle and handing it to Fox.

Fox held the flashlight to the side of the incinerator with his thumb, and the new-found ability to sweep a small circle of light through the dark spread a vaguely tender feeling through his body.

"I _work _through fear. Doesn't mean I don't feel it," Fox said.

"You know what I mean," Slippy whispered, "One of us is a bit better equipped for this stuff. Always has been."

"Don't sell yourself short."

Slippy only looked at him with a frown as he produced his glowrod and turned it on with a click.

They continued on in silence, until Alice's beam lit up an entryway into a narrow stairwell.

A moan echoed through the hallways and they stopped, frozen by the sound. Nothing happened, and they moved quickly into the stairwell. The stairs were so narrow that they could only move single-file, so steep that Fox felt the real possibility of falling backwards if he took a wrong step. The jagged metal walls brushing against the sleeves of his jacket seemed to close in with every ascending level. He felt like he'd been sucking in his gut just to fit through by the time he scaled the last step and joined the rest of them on the next deck. The ceilings of these corridors were unpleasantly high, sloping into dimness above as pipes and grates and peripherals hung down like stalagtites. They journeyed down the corridor and every few meters Fox had to shine his light upwards, just to be sure there wasn't something waiting to drop down from above.

The shadows slowly waned into a vague gray gloom, and up ahead Fox saw a dull white glow coming from a sloping archlike entryway to the left. Alice stopped under the arch and they joined her.

Framed by the metal arch was a massive sheet of white-frosted transparisteel, barely translucent shadows visible beyond with a pair of frosted transparisteel doors that merged so well with its housing that Fox almost missed them.

Large, bold black letters on the transparisteel read **BOTANICAL/HYDROPONICS GROW LAB**.

"Here we are," Alice said, looking over the transparisteel, her face bathed in the faint glow, "So what now?"

Fox looked to Krystal and read the look on her face. A tingling, ghostly charge washed over his body as he felt her mind touch his. She knew what was going through his head. What he was thinking about doing. A tight sensation collecting in Fox's gut told him she didn't like it. Her cyan eyes were intense with protest, but she said nothing.

"We need to know if there's something in there," Fox said, "If incinerators won't work and we all go in without knowing for sure, we'll be helpless. Two of us should scout ahead while the other two stay out here with flamethrowers. They can hold our position and be ready to torch anything that chases the scouts from the lab."

"So who goes?" Alice inquired, an eyebrow raised.

Fox looked at Krystal again. Once more, he could feel her silent protests.

"I'll go," Fox answered, "You know where the exit to the turbolift is, so you come with me. We'll take plasma cutters just in case we run into something, and I'll keep in touch on the comm. That way, we all know what's going on with everyone."

Alice sniffed and shrugged a bit.

"Works for me," she said.

Fox handed his incinerator to Slippy and took the two plasma cutters from him, passing one to Alice and keeping his face blank. He couldn't decipher what he saw behind those violet eyes.

"Let's go," she sighed, moving up to the frosted transparisteel doors. Fox joined her, looking back over his shoulder at Slippy and Krystal. The amphibian's eyes were wide with general terror, and Krystal was steadfast in her protest.

He faced the doors and watched them slide open, then he stepped into the lab with Alice.

The cold humidity brushed over Fox like a curtain and collected in his fur, dragging down heavily. Dull lights shined down from the high ceilings, with rows upon endless rows of tall hydroponic growing columns, metal frames for dozens of types of thick, luscious plants throughout the spacious room. They crowded the room, blocking his view of the far side, and in several sections he could see that the plants of multiple growing columns had grown and woven together, forming leafy shrub walls like a Cornerian hedge labyrinth. The scattered drip-drip-drip of water throughout the room made for an aggravating quiet cacophony that put Fox's teeth on edge. There was no shortage of hiding places in this artificial jungle.

The doors slid closed behind and sealed them in as Fox and Alice's footsteps tapped across the floor.

"It's not as far as it looks," Alice reassured him, leading the way.

Fox's limbs were tight as they journeyed through the lab, the plasma cutter feeling like little more than a flashlight in his hands. It was impossible to keep an eye on all the places that something might be hiding, every time he passed a row of grow columns he felt that he might've seen a glimpse of something move among them. It was clear that the plants in the lab had somehow benefited from the twenty eight days of neglect, often extending beyond the boundaries of the grow columns with leaves that brushed against his arms and vines that seemed almost determined to trip his feet. As he passed one grow column and felt a broad leaf sweep oddly over his neck, Fox stared at the plant suspiciously for a moment before Alice stopped and looked back at him. He rejoined her and watched her from the corner of his eye.

_Here I am_, Fox thought, _Alone, just like you wanted. Now what are you going to do? _

If something horrible was hiding under Alice Phoenix's face, he was giving it the perfect opportunity for a free dinner. At least if she transformed and attacked him, he would know for sure that it wasn't just paranoia.

He watched her walking pace, the movement of her tail and her hair as she strode in front, trying to discern something out of the ordinary. Something didn't feel right, something in this room got under his fur and told him it was _wrong_, but it was something that Fox couldn't describe. In a few moments the temptation to just shout at Alice to change might be too much for him to take. Watching her, laser-focused on any detail that might give her away, Fox yipped in surprise at the pinching kiss at the back of his neck. He stumbled across the metal floor and looked to the grow column that had been behind him, filled with folding, almost V-shaped red flowers on long, tapering stems.

"What?" Alice remarked.

"Fox?" Krystal's voice came in reassuringly on the comlink, "Is something wrong?"

Fox was silent, watching Alice, but also scanning the grow columns. The blooming, lush plants, the folding flowers that had been behind him, swayed just a little too much as the column's sprinklers trickled water onto the leaves from above.

"Something about the plants?" Alice asked, stepping quietly towards him. Fox glanced at her, feeling the back of his neck. It didn't feel like there was anything there that shouldn't be.

He glanced to another grow column a few meters ahead, thick with reaching vines that terminated in slender, five-fingered leaves. The drip-drip-dripping of water masked anything else.

"Slippy," he grunted into his headset.

"Yeah, Fox?"

"With the Aparoids...was there ever a case of plants being assimilated?"

"Plants?"

"Yeah. Anything to suggest the nanites could infect plants?"

"No," Slippy murmured slowly, "No, we never saw a case like that. The cell structures of plants and animals are different. As far as we know, the Aparoids never assimilated plant life."

"You did say the nanites were doing things they never did before, though, right?" Fox said.

"...I guess it's...possible. Why, do you see something weird?"

Fox glanced at grow column after grow column, watching the plants sway under trickling sprinklers or standing rigid and still. The drip-drip-drip of water persisted.

"No," Fox murmured, "No, just making sure."

"You alright?" Alice inquired, placing a paw on his shoulder. Fox glanced at her paw, then cleared his throat and looked at her face.

"Yeah," he said, stepping away from her grip, "Just a feeling."

"I know. I feel it too. Everything is worse," Alice whispered, looking up at the ceiling, "if you think something is watching you."

He followed her gaze up, spotting a swiveling holocam between a pair of lights in the ceiling. The reflective holocam eye was leveled right at them, and followed their every movement.

"Thanks for that," Fox said flatly, glancing over his shoulder at the camera as they kept walking, "Why couldn't we access those in the security center? Would've been much easier to see if there was something waiting in here."

"Those aren't connected to the security network," Alice answered, "They're research cameras to monitor the plant growth. VIRGIS manages them."

"Right," Fox swallowed, feeling the camera's gaze burn into his back.

They moved on, lost amongst the grow columns, the walls of the room on every side obscured behind the towers of plants. The shivering, humid air pressed down on his fur and made breathing a struggle. Fox moved his feet, one after the other, precisely because it felt like the only physical act possible to him, the only thing left that might take him away from this place of reaching plants and glaring eyes from above. Part of him began to feel thankful that another presence was with him, standing near him, but he struggled to remind himself that he was so sure that Alice was hiding something, so sure she couldn't be trusted, because she kept leading him further and further into seclusion. For a room used in growing plants, it felt bitterly cold, the humid haze almost stinging as it soaked into his fur.

She stopped walking and looked over her shoulder at him, violet eyes soft and heavy. Fox froze. He was completely alone with her, lost in this artificial jungle. Only now did it strike him as a truly horrible idea. He gripped the plasma cutter in his hands, standing stiff as she turned around and faced him. The smile on her face was illegible.

"You know, Fox," she said, "We're actually more acquainted than you think. In a degrees of separation sense, but you still might be surprised."

"Really?" Fox said, his voice hoarse and his mouth dry.

"Yeah," Alice remarked, "Phoenix isn't the most common family name. And those famous fighters of yours are one of Space Dynamics' most legendary designs."

"Trying to tell me you're related to _that _Phoenix family?" Fox breathed, stepping forward. The tightness in his muscles ebbed somewhat, his mind taken to a remote spot, impossibly far from this place, safe.

"To call it a family is being pretty generous. But _those _Phoenix's, one and the same," she told him, "Icharos, Fara, and Alice."

"I dated Fara Phoenix in high school," Fox replied, "I don't see the resemblance."

"I was adopted. A ward of Icharos. Really, just a playmate for his daughter."

"Funny how she never mentioned you."

"Didn't take her long to get bored with me. By the time high school started, I was sent to a boarding school on Macbeth and left pretty much to myself. Wouldn't say we're close. But she _did _mention you."

"Oh yeah?" Fox murmured as they walked slowly, and he felt the electricity of her fear, trying to dull it by taking their focus somewhere else. He began to hear a dripping sound up ahead that was different, heavier than before.

"Yeah," Alice whispered, "I remember us talking once. She mentioned that she was dating this guy. She said he was really handsome and he was the son of the famous James McCloud, and all her little friends were just jealous as hell that she was the one to snag you. She seemed really proud of herself."

"Huh," Fox tried to laugh, but couldn't, "That's Fara."

"Yeah," Alice nodded, "But that was a long time ago."

"It was," Fox echoed, the heavy dripping growing closer, "Things were so different. The future was going to be different. And life changed just...overnight. Totally re-wrote the person I was supposed to be. And I don't know if that Fox would even _recognize _the person I've...grown...into..."

Fox's words dropped off quietly as they saw the puddle spreading out from the grow column ahead, dark and thick and crimson red. Something was dripping steadily into it from above. Their eyes moved slowly up and there were no words as they saw it, the pair of legs and arms poking through the vines, the head and torso obscured by leaves and tendrils that weaved in and out of the skin, penetrating the fur as red dribbled slowly out. Alice breathed heavily, took a step forward, and Fox saw the shade fall over her face, surrounding him and her. She looked over his shoulder, past him, and her eyes swelled with fear. A chirping sound like a swarm of cicadas rattled in Fox's ears, and he couldn't describe what reflected in her eyes.

"Oh...oh God...D...Don't look back. Don't look..." she murmured, her voice exploding, "RUN!"

Running, sprinting, without really knowing what he ran from, Fox thought he might trip over the vines stretching out from the grow stands, but as they ran between column after column he could see the plants and leaves swaying impatiently, reaching for them, pinching with their leaves as the chirping followed behind, and Alice, screaming, trampled over a tendril and stumbled, sobbing as it reached for her ankle. Fox grabbed her by the arm and dragged her between a pair of columns, ducking under a thorny branch as the shadow rose over the ground in front of him and the rattling chirp grew louder. Their feet pounded into the floor, dodging between grow columns, Alice's screams ringing in his ears as the frosted transparisteel came into view and they ran, crying and gasping and somehow holding hands, up to the doors and screaming to be let out. The doors slid apart as the chirping neared and they threw themselves through, Fox crashing into the incinerator in Krystal's arms and feeling the wind knocked out of his lungs.

"What happened?!" Krystal cried, catching Fox as he reeled over and put his hands on his knees, gagging for breath, his tongue like sandpaper against his teeth.

"I...we... I don't know," Fox gasped, gulping down a dry heave and then trying to straighten himself, and he looked down at his hands. They were shaking without his permission.

Alice barked out a laugh in a screaming, wheezing cry, putting a hand over her mouth then resting it on her chest, forcing her eyelids shut as if to scrub away something burned into the retinas. She kept wheezing in something between a laugh and a sob, and said through her laughter, "I looked back—I looked behind us and I saw...I saw it. Oh...oh fuck..."

Her hair splayed wildly around her face, Alice doubled over and hugged her sides, staring at the floor.

Fox met Krystal's gaze and she tried to speak, unable to understand, then her face went limp as she looked past.

Fox forced himself to look over his shoulder, towards the glowing, frosted transparisteel. He wasn't sure when the doors had closed. A shape, something indeterminate, flabby and _enormous_ was on the other side. It blocked out nearly all of the light coming from the lab. If it wanted to leave, there was no way a sheet of transparisteel would stop it. But it didn't burst through the glass, it didn't move, it didn't make a sound, it just stayed there, almost pressed against the pane, like a child at the zoo.

Then the shape raised something, a limb, something that could've easily been an arm, a tentacle, maybe even a _branch_. It tapped, slowly, quietly against the glass, and the sound echoed far down the silent halls of the ship.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Ooh. At this point, you've been introduced to an important player in our story, Alice Phoenix. A character of my friend Phoenix Ray, you can learn more about her secret battles in the shadows of the Lylat War in Phoenix's story "SOL: The Sons of Lylat". She and I have come to share some ideas, and Alice is a welcome new part of my take on Star Fox. I'm always eager to hear people's opinions on this tale, as I'm treading into some new territory for me as a writer and input helps me write. I hope to give the readers that follow me the same level of quality they've come to expect, and maybe entice some new readers with my somewhat against-the-mold take on the Lylat System. As such, any reviews you'd like to leave are welcome. Oh, and Happy Halloween everybody - TU**


	6. Dead Space

**-Dead Space-**

"Where do we go now?" Slippy asked quietly, his voice lost in the dark abyss and high ceilings of the corridor.

The soft white glow of the frosted transparisteel entrance to the botanical labs grew distant behind them as they swept the beams of flashlights and glowrods over the walls. No one asked Alice what she had seen. The hollow, haunted look in the cheetah's eyes told Fox that there weren't words to describe it. Alice's hair was still disheveled from running, and he could see her struggle to control the quivering of her bottom jaw as she swept her flashlight beam over the sharp edges of the corridor. Fox tried to swallow the insistent, prodding suspicion telling him that she was infected with Aparoid nanites, that maybe they'd subconsciously compelled her to lead them to the botanical lab with it's bloodthirsty plants and unspeakable fiend. Even if she was, Alice was just as terrified as they were.

"We can't stay out in the open like this," Fox muttered, "If one shortcut doesn't get us to the mess hall, we'll take the other. You said there was another?"

Alice nodded, licking her lips nervously and blinking several times.

"It's far from the greatest idea," she whispered, "But it might be better than trying to go through the corridors. Only slightly."

"So it's _worse _than the botanical labs?" Slippy squeaked with a quivering lip.

"I figure they're using the vent ducts against us to set up ambushes in the hallways," Alice reasoned, "So maybe using their own methods against them might work. There's a series of maintenance shafts that run through the ship. Big enough to crawl if you crouch, and we can seal off the hatches that we go through so they can't follow behind us."

"Wait, you're suggesting we crawl through the same ducts they're using to surprise us?" Krystal clarified, her bottlebrush tail curling tensely, "The ducts that are sure to be_ filled_ with these things?"

Alice shook her head.

"The maintenance ducts are different. Thicker walls and they're built deeper into the structure of the ship. They wouldn't be using these to surprise us in the corridors and they don't open up into the corridors. They open up into specific rooms of the ship. One of the hatches into the duct system is located in the mess hall complex. We could use it to get into the complex, safely, and they might not even think of us using it. It's not like anything that they could infect is in there," Alice reasoned.

"Oh, I don't like this..." Slippy whimpered.

Their heads jerked up as a vague echoing sound swept into their ears like a gust of wind. Flashlight beams swept over walls and Fox gripped his incinerator in his hands, his jaw tense. He smelled the air: stale, cold, and empty. They still didn't relax.

"From a tactical standpoint, it might be better," Fox proposed, "The enclosed space means that if we do run into something, it's easier to blast with an incinerator. They wouldn't be able to horde and surround us like they can out here."

"Are you saying you _like _this idea?" Krystal inquired stiffly.

"I don't _like _any of it," Fox replied, "But it beats sticking around out here. Where's the nearest entrance hatch?"

"Finding one now," Slippy muttered, fiddling with his data assistant, "Here."

The green scouter from Fox's headset extended over his eye and displayed the schematics for the _Starghast_, showing their position and a blinking blue dot in a separate part of the ship.

"Down two corridors to a turbolift, then up one level," Slippy remarked, "Should be in a utility closet right outside the lift doors."

"Then let's get going," Fox said, taking up position at the head of the group and motioning for Krystal to keep up the rear.

They continued down the high-ceilinged hall, following the map on Fox's scouter, their steps slow and careful to better hear the approach of anything that wasn't them. A glow emanated from around the turn they were supposed to make, and Fox cautiously peeked around the corner to see a stretch of corridor with much lower ceilings and softer edges, lit by dim blue glowlamps on the walls. He stepped carefully into the lit hall, his eyes narrowing as his black nose twitched.

"Does anyone else smell that?" Fox murmured.

"Yeah," Alice nodded, "It smells like _them_."

"Stay sharp."

Somehow the lights didn't make them any more comfortable as they walked through the corridor, the low hiss of the igniter flame from Fox and Krystal's incinerators changing pitch as they swept them cautiously back and forth in front of them. The sweet-vomit smell was getting intense, clogging his nostrils until he felt he might gag, but there was no sound to indicate anything's approach. The corridor turned to the left up ahead, where the smell seemed to get stronger. Fox signaled them to hold, and he pressed his back against the wall, gripping his incinerator tightly. Whatever it was, it had to be right around the corner. His finger wrapped around the trigger and he grit his teeth, counting to three. When he'd finished, he didn't feel any more confident, but he still swung his weapon around the corner and brought it up with a snarl.

He paused at the sight. The sweet-vomit smell made the back of his throat pucker with nausea.

"Hey Slip," Fox said, "You want to tell me what I'm looking at?"

The ceiling and one of the walls of the corridor were coated in a glistening, gummy sheet of pinkish-purple flesh and tissue, pulsating ever so slightly and giving off the strong sweet-vomit odor. It looked similar to the profusions of fleshy tendrils he'd seen grow out of some of the things, except woven into a thick, putrid carpet.

Slippy looked out from around the corner, then joined Fox at his side.

"Huh," Slippy remarked as Alice and Krystal joined them, "This is interesting."

"What is it?" Krystal inquired, her muzzle wrinkling with disgust as they stepped down the hall and eyed the mass.

"I think it might be similar to something we've seen the Aparoids do on Corneria City and Sauria," Slippy remarked, leaning close to slimy coating of flesh and inspecting the purplish veins that could be made out on the contours of the mass under close inspection.

"Don't get too close," Fox warned, and Slippy gave him a look and stepped back.

"When the Aparoids invaded Sauria and attacked Corneria, we couldn't respond immediately," Slippy mused, "They had some time to dig in. So on certain walls we would find these secretions of resin, constructed by the nanites. They would use them to anchor hatchers to the walls, and eventually convert the environment into a hive, or at least that's what we suspected. This looks similar in principle. But instead of resin, this seems to be actual biomass. It secretes a mucous-like substance, almost like stomach lining."

"So why?" Fox inquired.

Slippy adjusted the cap on his head and tugged on the sides of his white StarFox jacket.

"I've just got theories," the amphibian shrugged, "It could be spare biomass to assist any nearby creature in transforming. It could be a more passive method of infecting hosts. Maybe it doesn't have a purpose with this new way that the nanites are behaving, it's just sort of a holdover from the Aparoids we faced."

"The veins are phosphorescent," Alice remarked, glancing at a clutch of veins in the mass glowing a bright, eerie green.

"Photoluminescent," Slippy corrected.

"Whatever," the feline rolled her eyes.

"Krystal," Fox remarked, prompting them to move towards another turn up ahead, this time to the right, "Can you sense anything about the Source? What's it doing now?"

"It...it doesn't seem terribly concerned with us right now," Krystal said slowly.

"What do you mean by that? Those things are still after us, aren't they?" Alice said.

"It's difficult to interpret...It's a hard presence to read," the vixen replied, "But I'd say that it feels as if it's distracted, more than anything."

She finished her sentence just as they rounded the corner, where the pink coating of flesh crept over the ceiling and trailed down over the wall to their left. Fox took another step and the mass began to quiver and pulsate with a crunching, liquid sound. He gasped and raised his incinerator towards the coating, backing into the untouched section of the wall with his teammates as glowing green veins appeared in the mass and wove and twisted together, forming jagged verdant shapes as more shining mucous began to weep from the mass.

"You were _saying_?" Alice demanded, glaring at Krystal as the mass rippled into itself and the glowing green veins formed shapes that were ever more familiar. A little winding shiver of sickness traveled through Fox's gut when he began to make out letters. The mass settled into stillness and no one could take their eyes off the message, written in veins and glowing green for all to see. The writing was large and straggling and ought to have looked, Fox thought, near indecipherable given the fact that the Aparoids had shown little mastery over the Basic language. Instead, it was terrifyingly real, stretching over the length of the pink tissue coating, the words undeniable. Even though it felt like the blood was draining out of his arms, out of his head, collecting heavily in his legs, Fox forced himself to read the words one more time: **WELCOME HOME FOX.**

"No," he breathed, feeling the word stop in his throat, and he looked over to his companions to make sure that they'd seen his name just as clearly as he had. _It's me_, Fox thought. _That's my name right there; I should not be on the walls of this ship. _

"Burn it," he mumbled, bringing up the incinerator with a desperate look in his eyes.

"Wait," Alice said, grabbing the stock of the weapon as Fox bared his teeth at her, "Don't waste the ammo."

"It knows my _name_," he growled, digging his fingers into the incinerator's grip and forcing himself to look at the letters.

"It knows us," Krystal whispered, staring at the letters, "It _remembers _us."

"What do you mean, _us_?" Alice muttered, "I don't see my name up there."

"This...this is impossible," Slippy said, putting a nervous hand on his head, "There's no way it can _remember _us. The Source might've built it's hivemind off whatever was left of the Queen's, but it can't have _memories _left. This flies in the face of all our theories about Aparoid apoptosis..."

"The whole night proves your theories need to go back to the drawing board," Alice grunted.

Fox looked at the words one more time, then dug his fingers into the stock of the incinerator to stop his hand from shaking.

"We have to go," he forced out, taking a step down the hall and clearing his throat before speaking into the microphone, "Peppy. How's the extraction going?"

"We've got a steady signal, but the only way to maintain it is to move the _Great Fox _closer to the _Starghast_," Peppy replied over the comm, "We should have the shuttle soon. Just stay safe."

"Wilco," Fox sent back, gesturing them to move forward down the hall. He glanced at the message one last time before turning his head forward and forcing himself to march on.

He tried not to think about what it had to mean, that the infection or the Source or _something _about this whole thing knew his name. Though it hardly seemed possible, the shadows had grown more foreboding, even under the blue lights of the corridor; for now the eyes that he imagined watching knew who he was. They could see deeper inside him.

"Fox..." Krystal called softly from behind, her voice tender, but Fox didn't look back as they neared a line of office doors dug into the left side of the corridor. They'd left the coating of flesh far behind, but the sweet-vomit smell persisted.

The mix of thoughts filled with fear and anger at this new revelation almost meant that he didn't notice the flickering of the screens on the control panels for each of the office doors that they passed. With a sudden clicking sound, the various doors began to slide open and closed on their own, back and forth with a low whoosh. They looked suspiciously at the doors, then at each other, noticing that it was slowly getting hotter. Slippy made whimpering, choking sounds of breath as he stared at the doors whooshing open and slamming shut. The heat grew stronger, palpably heavy against his red fur.

Fox breathed, gritting his teeth, then he saw a flash of the same wide face with beady yellow eyes appear in the door controls, and squealing snarls rumbled up the corridor at them. He looked down the direction that they'd come and saw twisted shadows swarming around the corner.

"Go, go, go!" Fox barked, storming down the hall with them, "We're almost at the lift!"

Boots pounding into the metal floor, they turned to the right and saw a door at the end of a short stretch of hallway. Racing towards the door, alien howls rattling behind them, Alice pressed her ID badge into the control panel and the door slid quickly to the side. They piled in and Krystal slapped the control panel on the other side of the door, sliding shut just as the horde began to spill around the corner towards them.

"See if you can lock them out," Fox breathed, looking at Slippy and cocking his head towards the door. Slippy opened his data assistant and neared the control panel, sifting through holographic readouts projected by the device.

"It looks like a pretty weak door, I don't know what good it'll-"

The amphibian's words were cut off by roars from the other side and a loud smashing of a body against the door, the metal deforming inwards. Slippy's lower lip trembled.

"They'll break through that," Alice said, her mouth dry.

"The lift's right over here, hurry," Fox remarked, leading them to the pair of turbolift doors at the other end of the short, dim corridor. The door they'd come through shook with another two impacts, each louder and more wrenching than the first as weakening metal squeaked in protest. Fox could feel his heart thumping against his ribcage as he pressed the call button for the turbolift over and over again, trying not to panic.

The lift doors opened into an empty shaft, and the wide, dark face appeared in the lift control panel, a crackling garble of static hissing out almost like laughter. Then the turbolift car screeched past their level with a rush of air, plunging down uncontrollably into the dark depths below. Another crash against the door gave them no time for shock.

Fox glanced up inside the shaft to see the next level's doors closed, on the other side of the shaft from them, with a ladder scaling up the side of the shaft. Support beams stretching across the shaft made it possible to reach the ladder without having to risk a jump.

"Climb," Fox ordered.

"What?!" Slippy cried.

"Climb!" he snapped, "Hurry!"

Alice was the first to hop into the shaft and land on the support beams, nimbly moving across and making her way to the ladder. Krystal followed quickly behind, then the door whined with another impact as a twisted arm folded a corner down with a furious snarl.

"Slippy, you have to jump, you have to go now-"

"I _can't _Fox, I can't make the jump."

"SLIPPY!"

"I can't!" the amphibian cried, and a bellowing scream accompanied the sound of tearing metal from the door.

Without thinking, Fox kicked Slippy in the back and sent him flying, screaming into the shaft, his arms flailing wildly just before Krystal grabbed onto one of his hands and pulled him up onto the support beam. Fox looked over his shoulder, seeing clawed hands and tentacled arms ripping the door down from the outside. There were only seconds left.

He saw Slippy climbing up the ladder and he leapt into the shaft, sailing over the darkness below and smashing his feet into the support beam, bracing his arm against the shaft wall for support. Alice was at the top of the ladder, grunting with the effort of prying the doors open on the level above, when Fox heard one last metal screech, then a wave of howling roars as things flooded towards the shaft entrance.

"Move! Move!" Fox yelled, bringing up the incinerator as shapes appeared in the shaft doorway. He didn't wait to see what the first one looked like, he just squeezed the trigger as a misshapen silhouette appeared above. The incinerator belched with a whoosh of flames, bathing the shaft in orange light as a cone of fire swept into the outline of the creature. Empty, roaring howls shook the shaft as the squealing thing fell flaming into the darkness. He looked up and saw the lift doors cracked open, Alice wriggling her way though, and Fox grabbed the rungs of the ladder and climbed after Slippy. Chittering and the snapping of jaws underscored the roaring from the open shaft doors, Fox climbing up as horrible things tried to come after them. A vocal bark behind prompted Fox to look over his shoulder and watch as one creature leapt across the shaft and slammed into the wall, swinging arms at him before plunging down the shaft. Another was smarter and copied them, leaping onto the support beam and crawling towards the ladder. Fox made out something that used to be a female canine, with twisted, elongated arms, a whipping tongue and eyes extending on stalks from the sockets before he balanced the incinerator on his thigh and blasted the creature with fire. Screeching as the blanket of flame wrapped around its body, the creature stumbled backwards before tumbling down the shaft, and the horde screamed in protest from the opposite doors as he climbed to the top of the ladder and Krystal grabbed his hand, pulling him up through the doors.

Fox crawled across the metal floor, catching his breath as Alice and Krystal shoved the doors shut. There were gurgling squeals and spidery green hands with black claws that wedged through the doors, shoving them open. The girls shrank back from the doors as a bloated chameleon with bulging white eyes dragged itself through, a jagged slit in its throat. One of its clawed hands raked across the metal floor, reaching towards Fox, and everyone yelled as he tried to scoot back. The chameleon opened its mouth, revealing needle teeth and a second set of snapping jaws in the back of it's throat. It croaked at them before vomiting a torrent of green bile with white chunks onto the floor, a putrid stench as it's shoulders widened with a cracking of bone, forcing the doors open further. Slippy raised his blaster rifle with a cry and popped off a burst of three green bolts into the reptilian's forehead, jerking its head back and tearing the slit in it's neck open wider. Teeth sprouted from the edges of the slit, a mouth gagging wide as a tiny head on a pink tendril snaked out and snapped at Fox's foot. He crawled across the floor as the lashing serpentine thing squealed and the puddle of bile oozed towards him, the white chunks wriggling into maggot like worms with tiny puckering mouths. The white leeches hopped up, splattering into the green slime with little squeaks, bouncing towards them as he struggled to his knees.

"Get out of the way!" Krystal bellowed, bringing up her incinerator as Slippy pulled Fox onto his feet and they threw their backs into the wall. A plume of bright inferno erupted from the incinerator and swept over the puddle, a multitude of hissing squeals coalescing with the growl of flame. The blue vixen raised the incinerator higher as the reptilian-thing's claws dug into the floor, dragging itself past the doors, illuminated in the orange flames with the snake head still snapping as moans issued from its hanging primary head. Krystal barked and another thick jet of flame burst out, sweeping around the creature. Throaty moans shook the hall as black smoke curled into the ceiling, and Alice stepped up and fired a burst of green blaster bolts at the flaming creature. It's squeals stung Fox's ears as it rolled flailing on the floor, but ever greater howls rang out of the turbolift shaft as nightmares lined up to come through after them. Hollow moans were heard over the crackling flames, and Fox turned over his shoulder, down the dark corridor with low ceilings crowded with exposed pipes. More things were coming, from down the hall behind them. The stench of burning flesh almost drowned out the overwhelming sweet-vomit smell coming from both the open turbolift shaft and the corridor behind them. He gulped with dread, looking at Krystal and Alice, silhouetted against the flames. Their faces were haggard in the flickering orange light. A glance down at his incinerator's fuel read out prompted a grimace: sixty three percent left. There couldn't be much more in Krystal's. But things were still coming. Slippy, with moisture-heavy eyes reflecting the dying flames, breathed in quiet, shuddering gasps.

"Over here, let's go," Fox said, his voice strained, leading them to a door to the left, marked on his scouter's schematics display with a blue dot. The door slid open, revealing a closet of a room, walls lined with pipes and computer terminals flashing with readouts from various ship systems. In the wall, the size of a sewer manhole cover, was a round hatch shaped like an iris diaphragm. Still panting, his green skin shining with sweat, Slippy opened his data assistant and locked the door to the utility closet, then turned around and manipulated some holographic icons as he approached the hatch. The bladed iris of the hatch widened open with a moaning scratch of metal against metal. The light of the glowpanel in the closet ceiling was enough for Fox to see the boundaries of the maintenance duct, just big enough to allow them to hobble through in a crouching position. The light penetrated maybe a meter into the duct before pitch-black shadows took over.

"How wonderful: a dark crawlspace," Krystal muttered, "I was just thinking we should do this in a dark crawlspace."

"If you've got a better idea, now's the time to say," Fox returned, looking dubiously into the darkness of the maintenance ducts.

"I'd jump at the first one that _doesn't _include this. Tell me again how this is safer?"

"Hey, banter twins," Alice fumed, "I hate interrupting whatever forced sexual tension you've got going, and I _really _hate to be the "we've got company" guy, _buuut_..."

A series of alien grunts and unnatural screams, jarringly loud and close reached their ears from the other side of the flimsy closet door. Blood drained away from Fox's face, his jaw muscles going limp as he looked at Alice and she gestured impatiently with her hands. He didn't have time to question her motives, and no one seemed to have any other thoughts. No one seemed eager to be first into the ducts.

"We have to hurry. Weld the hatch closed once we're all through," Fox said, turning on his flashlight and crouching down into the hatch opening, "And pray they don't follow us."

* * *

Falco Lombardi could _see _the _Pleiades _through the bridge's viewport. It was right there, floating aimlessly below the port side of the the _Starghast_, which made the fact that the ship wouldn't respond to hails even more annoying. That was supposed to change soon. They'd moved the _Great Fox _closer to the ship in order to boost the slave-circuit signal, and they'd interfaced with the ship, but apparently this had created more problems. Peppy had been vague about just what those "problems" were when he left the bridge with the instructions that Falco keep an eye on the _Great Fox_'s proximity scanners. Falco was just about to get up and look for the old rabbit when the bridge doors split apart and Peppy pushed a cart loaded with various weapons from the ship's armory.

"Is it my birthday?" Falco inquired, leaning back and examining the selection of guns.

"Get up," Peppy growled, "Hurry."

"Yo, what's wrong?" Falco said, the soft corners of his beak turned downwards. He got out of his seat next to ROB at the forward control console and joined Peppy behind the command chair.

"Okay, so, you know how we moved the ship closer to get the shuttle to respond?" Peppy said.

"...yeah," Falco nodded.

"I think I know why we were getting all of that interference in the signal," Peppy growled, "It was coming from the _Starghast_. The whole point was to get the _Great Fox _moving closer to the ship."

"Why?"

"**Proximity warning**," ROB announced, looking back at them with his photoreceptor strip, "**Multiple small targets**."

"That's what I was afraid of," Peppy said, "ROB, put it up on the projector."

The holoprojectors in the ceiling came to life and drew models of the _Great Fox_, _Pleiades _and the _Starghast _in green wire-frames. Red circles appeared in multiple places on the _Starghast_, the shuttle and in the space near the _Great Fox_. One of the red circles was magnified to show several misshapen creatures hurtling through the void of space towards the ship.

"We're close enough for those things to _jump _from the _Starghast_," Peppy explained, "They're headed here."

"Shit," Falco hissed, "Shit."

"They're on the shuttle and they're moving towards us. We need the shuttle to bring everyone home, but if just one of those things gets in here, it's all over," Peppy growled.

"God damn it," Falco cursed again, "What do we do?"

Peppy cleared his throat.

"I got these for us. A wrist-mounted plasma cutter and my scattergun for you," Peppy explained, holding up his double-barrelled charged particle scattergun and handing it to Falco. The avian accepted it with a confused look in his eyes.

"I'm going to pilot the shuttle by remote into the landing bay. I'm going to need you and ROB to do an EVA and make sure none of them makes it inside the ship," Peppy said.

"Wait, ya' want me ta' go _outside_? Space is outside. Are ya serious?"

"Look at me, Falco. This is my serious face. Put on a pressure suit; it's not like _I _can do it. You'll have ROB with you. I need you to hurry. They'll be crawling on the hull soon enough."

Falco sighed and shook his head. He knew there was a reason he'd elected to stay behind, but he couldn't remember it now. There was no way he could've thought it would make his day easier. He looked over to ROB as the android disconnected from his USC socket.

"Let's go, tin-man," Falco grunted, "Looks like we got some monsters ta' kill."

The pilot and the robot walked together towards the bridge doors.

"Falco," Peppy growled. The avian looked back.

"Don't let them touch you. Be careful."

Falco rolled his eyes.

"Right. 'Cause I _wasn't _gonna be careful goin' ta' kill a bunch a' flesh-eatin' space zombies. When I get back, you owe me a drink, old man."

With that, Falco and ROB disappeared through the bridge doors, and Peppy looked out the viewport with a frown. The _Starghast_, not sane, stood waiting for them, holding darkness within.

* * *

Cramped into the dark maintenance ducts, Fox looked away from the bright light of the plasma cutter in Krystal's hand as it crackled and burned into the entry hatch, the extended blue blade whining loudly. The heat generated by the melting metal was intense in the confines of the ducts, where the air was dank and still, and Fox could feel beads of sweat trailing down his fur. After a few moments, Krystal scooted away from the hatch, the whirring plasma blade illuminating the ducts with a blue glow. She pressed a button and the blade shrank back into the device, and for a moment the only light visible was the soft orange hue of the welded metal hatch. He fumbled in the dark until he found his flashlight, clicking it on as Slippy produced his glowrod and Krystal took the flashlight from under Alice's rifle, turning it on and attaching it to her headset. He looked down the length of the ducts at them in the harsh mix of light and shadow, seeing three faces weary from sustained terror. They could only fit single file into the ducts, with Fox in the lead, Slippy followed by Alice and Krystal in the rear. Fox swung his flashlight in the other direction, the cone of light sweeping over the tight square tunnel of stamped metal fixtures, with various hatches to access what he assumed were system conduits. He could feel the heavy ship pressing down from all around, and he told himself that the duct only _appeared _to get smaller and more confined as one went further. The shadows seemed to eat their combined lights, illuminating little more than the outline of duct work meters ahead, before blackness took over. Fox shifted onto his knees and shuffled forward a bit, his ears perking up with attention. There was nothing to hear short of their own breathing, made hoarse and resonant by the tight metal spaces. This did not feel safer.

He swallowed his fear and crawled forward, reflecting that they'd sealed themselves in and there was no other way to go now but further into the darkness.

"Hey, Slippy," Fox grunted behind, looking through the grainy image enhancement provided by his headset scouter, brightening his view of the ducts ahead somewhat. He kept his incinerator thrust cautiously forward, leading with the hissing blue igniter flame.

"Yeah, Fox?" Slippy replied.

"Of all the stuff you thought to put on these new headsets," Fox breathed, "You never thought to mount a flashlight or something?"

"I am now," the amphibian came back, "Didn't think of it at the time. Can't really plan for something like this."

"Guess so."

"Here," Slippy remarked, activating his data assistant, "Maybe this'll help."

Fox looked back to see a display of several concentric circles projected over Slippy's wrist, a cycling ping that spread out from the center. With every ping, Fox could see four small dots inside the innermost concentric ring.

"Motion tracker," Slippy explained, "Works off a combination of acoustic location and minor changes in air density to detect anything moving in a range of twenty four meters."

"Why didn't you use that before?" Alice huffed, hobbling down the ducts behind Slippy.

"Doesn't work that well in open spaces like those corridors. Lots of false positives," Slippy remarked, "In here? Much more accurate."

"That's a bit of a relief," Krystal sighed.

Fox led them onwards, using the schematics display on his scouter to navigate through the maze of ducts. They had a ways to go, down at least two levels and through several hundred meters of duct work. Their progress was slow and careful, and it wasn't long before Fox's knees cramped up painfully tender. Whenever they would reach a junction between two paths of the ducts, Fox would fire a cautious, short burst from the incinerator into the intersection, then he would edge around the turn and aim his flashlight and flamethrower to the left as Slippy covered his back. Once Fox was sure that both of their flanks were safe, they would continue on. By the time they'd passed their fourth intersection, the fuel in Fox's incinerator was down to forty one percent. Fox shuffled on, and his flashlight beam hit a dark black circle framed by a thick square housing that blocked off the section of ducts immediately ahead. It became more apparent as they shuffled closer as another closed iris-like hatch similar to the one that they'd entered.

"Slip," Fox said, cocking his head towards the hatch.

"Just a minute," Slippy nodded, scooting closer, to the point that Fox had to press himself into the duct wall and hold his incinerator close to his chest in order for the amphibian to reach past. Slippy moved the radar-like motion sensor display to the side and pulled up another holographic icon, entering a series of commands. The blades of the iris began to move with the same hoarse scratching sound, opening wide to allow their passage, and the motion sensor display began to chirp and flash red as a fifth dot appeared in front of their four. Fox hissed and jerked his incinerator upwards, thrusting the flashlight forward into the dark. The motion sensor stopped beeping the moment that the hatch finished opening, the fifth dot vanishing from the display, and Fox found himself glaring down a dark but seemingly empty tunnel. He sighed, feeling his heart pound inside his chest, and turned to Slippy with pursed lips as Alice muttered an aggravated curse.

"What was that about false positives?" the cheetah hissed.

"What?" Slippy shrugged, "It detects movement; the hatch was moving. It's not going to know whether or not something's a monster, just if something other than us is moving."

"So every time it beeps from something around the corner, it could just as easily be a roach-mite as one of the nasties," Alice grumbled.

"At least you'll be prepared," Slippy breathed nervously.

"Try telling me that after my third panic attack over what turns out to be just a spider. By the way, did I mention I _hate _confined spaces like this? It's suffocating. No way to run. No escape. No matter where you are, you're still trapped in a corner, crawling helplessly in the dark-"

"Do you mind?" Krystal snapped from the rear, aquamarine eyes blazing.

The cheetah and the vixen glared at each other, faces pale in the harsh glow of Krystal's flashlight.

"Guys," Fox growled, "We don't have time."

Alice looked back at Krystal once more before facing forward, and Fox lurched back around and crawled through the open hatch. They settled again into a rhythm, moving single file through the dark tunnel, the walls squeezing them into uncomfortable positions as the sounds of their breathing echoed into the depths, warped and dry. None of them talked, not wanting to tempt fate, and the thickness of this section of the ship meant they were cut off from any communication with Peppy. Sliding onward into the unknowable dark, it was hard to keep his mind off of the cheetah following behind. Despite the clear signs of her cooperation and the shared terror, the question remained in Fox's mind. The horde seemed to attack them with more intensity since she joined, and both this plan and the previous path through the botanical labs presented perfect chances for an ambush. They were marginally safer in these ducts than in the corridors because the confined spaces bottlenecked any approaching enemies into a single-file formation, their group functioning almost like a phalanx with an incinerator on each end. But that was all nullified if Alice turned out to be one of them. She was right in the middle, all she needed to do was reach out and touch them, then _transform. _This time, it wasn't just Fox with her. She had his friends now too, confined, close, with no where to run. That he didn't know for sure might've been the worst.

What if he gave into the feeling, turned around and torched her, only to hear the screams of a normal person burning to death at his hand? If he killed someone over nothing but fear, would any combination of will and time silence the screams?

But perhaps that was just what the Source, whatever it was, counted on. After all, it _knew _him, _remembered _him by name. Maybe it was relying on Fox's principles to stay his hand. Maybe it had already infected them all.

The back of Fox's throat was dry and raw, the fur on his tail and over the back of his neck prickling as a chasm opened up ahead. A few meters in the distance, Fox could see the cramped duct open up into a vertical shaft, with an entrance into further ducts across the shaft and a ladder allowing one to move up or down. He glanced at the schematics display on his scouter, then looked behind.

"Okay, we're going down this ladder one level, then heading to the right, okay?" Fox murmured, waiting for everyone to nod.

He scooted to the end of the tunnel, bringing the incinerator up and firing a short blast across the shaft, then upwards and then downwards. As his nose wrinkled with the greasy smell of neypol and smoke stung his eyes in the fading orange light, he saw twenty nine percent fuel remaining in the incinerator's tank. Fox rose to his feet and grabbed onto the ladder, quickly moving down one level until an entrance to further duct tunnels were to both the right and left. He cautiously fired short bursts in both directions. Twenty three percent now. Fox extended one foot, then another onto the small platform to his right, nearly bumping his head on a metal fixture, hearing himself breathe as he crouched down and began to shuffle into the duct tunnel. He could feel the heat from his incinerator blast where his knee touched the metal. He didn't know why his heart throbbed in his ears, pounding so loudly that he wondered if Slippy could hear it behind him. Something brushed through the fur near his face and he gasped, his heart leaping until he realized it was just sweat dripping off him. He moved further into the tunnel, Slippy and Alice and Krystal following behind as the ducts stretched forward into the dark.

Then he saw it.

Brown and limp up ahead, he knew it wasn't a part of the ducts. He paused for a moment, frozen and alert, and he almost blasted it with the incinerator until he realized what it was.

"Oh my God," Slippy breathed, "What is that?"

"It's a boot," Fox said simply, shuffling up to it, giving it a glance and moving past, "Don't worry about it."

"Maybe there's a foot in it," Alice remarked.

"Don't start," Fox said, looking back, "Don't touch it, either."

"What if she's right?" Slippy whimpered as Fox continued moving, "I thought you said no one should've been in here, that's why there wouldn't be monsters in here. Oh man, please be just a boot, please be a boot, please be a boot..."

After a moment, Fox heard a shuffling sound behind, then Slippy's elated voice remarking, "Hey! It's a boot!"

Krystal chortled in a way that echoed up at Fox, and he couldn't help a small smile as he rolled his eyes and shook his head, crawling across the metal surface. He almost missed them amongst the metal grooves and patterns stamped into the metal walls of the duct, it was only because he'd grown used to the repeating designs that he noticed the new depressions carved into a smooth surface of the duct floor. Fox shuffled towards them, shining his light on the thin series of four scratches in the metal. They were relatively shallow, little more than surface cuts. The creatures they'd encountered were much too powerful to make marks this weak. He was about to write them off as simple manufacturing defects when he ran his fingers over them, his trimmed nails lining up perfectly with the scratches. He followed the scratches, watching them extend almost a meter into the darkness ahead, and he remembered the boot. An image flashed in his mind of being dragged by his feet screaming down the duct, with nothing around to grab onto, desperately digging his fingernails into the metal surface in vain.

It clicked in Fox's head as Slippy crawled up behind him, then the motion detector display began to beep and flash. His head snapped back to look at the display, seeing a fifth dot on the edge of the circle.

"T-twenty four meters ahead," Slippy stuttered as the display continued to beep.

The rest of Fox's fur prickled under his jacket as blood raced through his arms, bringing the incinerator up. He was gripping the handle so tight that his hand began to feel numb, and he cautiously flexed his fingers so they wouldn't be stiff. Shuffling down the duct, the scratches led into the darkness as the motion tracker beeped, almost in time with his heart.

Fox pushed forward, breathing out through his nose.

"Twenty meters," Slippy shuddered, "Ten ahead, ten to the left."

Up ahead there was a splash of reddish brown right where the scratches ended, then the scratches were replaced by trail of dried, chipping blood.

"Oh no," Slippy whispered, "Fifteen meters."

The breaths jetted out of Fox's nose, and he could feel his tail shivering against the duct wall. It was getting warm. He could feel air flowing down the tunnel through his fur, and the trail of blood led on into uncompromising shadowed distances.

The darkness ahead seemed unwilling to yield to the beam of his flashlight, but as Fox got closer he realized that this wasn't the case. The bloody trail of something being dragged terminated, and three of the metal walls were covered in scabby, caked red.

"Holy shit," Alice murmured slowly.

"Twelve meters," Slippy mumbled, his voice trembling.

Ahead, just past the massive bloodstain, Fox could see a four-way juncture with a turn to the left and right. _Ten meters to the left_.

He shuffled over the blood stained metal duct work, the left knee of his green flightsuit getting smeared with red flecks, then he pressed against the wall of the duct, edging towards the turn to the left. Hot air was moving out through that way, through Fox's fur, and he held the flashlight in his teeth so that he could grip the incinerator with both hands. The light shined into the opposite corner of the juncture, illuminating little more than further darkness. He breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth, then he leaned around the corner and squeezed the trigger. The incinerator howled as it unleashed an orange geyser of flame down the tunnel, bathing the ducts in a warm glow. He heard no roaring, abominable squeals, and as he released the trigger the flames swirled and black smoke swept into his face. His eyes stung and gushed with tears and Fox's chest heaved with violent coughs as he fell on his ass and struggled to breathe, the flashlight tumbling out of his jaws.

"Fox!" Krystal shouted from behind, and Fox ground his fists into his eyelids, hoping to clear them as his mouth filled with saliva and the greasy taste of accelerant fuel.

"It's still there!" Slippy hissed desperately as Fox forced his eyes open, spitting out the nasty taste of smoke and enduring the sting as his vision began to blur from tears. He blinked them away to clear his vision, grabbing the flashlight from the metal floor and shining it down the duct tunnel. He saw spinning blades throwing hot air in his face from the distance, and he collapsed against the duct wall with gritted teeth.

"It's a _fan_, Slippy," Fox snarled, rubbing his eyes again, "God damn it."

"Oh," Slippy said quietly, "Must be a heat exchanger for a high-power system."

"Turn the damn thing off," Alice snapped, "It's more trouble than it's worth."

Fox grunted, wiping the last of the smoke from his eyes, and scowled at the readout showing eighteen percent of the incinerator's fuel remaining. He rolled onto his feet and spit out another mouth full of smoke-flavored saliva, his ears stinging at the sound of Slippy's still-beeping motion tracker.

"What about what we saw?" Krystal said, "The boot, the blood. Someone was attacked in here. There's no body so it's definitely one of them."

Fox shined his flashlight down the other two junctures, seeing nothing but duct walls leading into darkness, then he looked one more time at the fan that he'd tried to torch. He sighed and looked down at the floor. It seemed shinier than usual, glistening almost. Fox reached down to touch it and his fingertips grew wet.

"There probably _was _something in here," Alice remarked, "Not sure if there still is."

Fox brought his fingers up and examined them. They were moist with a greenish brown substance, somewhere between tar and jelly in its consistency. A little bit dripped back onto the duct floor and Fox brought his fingers up to his nose, head snapping back reflexively. It was a dark, toxic smell, worse than the sweet-vomit odor, worse than regular decay, pungent like shit and it stung the back of his nose.

The shadowy ducts rattled with a hollow, whistling squeal in the distance, and Slippy's tracker started beeping again. The amphibian's bulbous eyes were wider than usual.

"Twenty four meters behind," Slippy whispered, "Twenty three."

The air grew warmer than before.

Fox growled, "Move."

* * *

The bright glowlamps shining down from the ceiling only served to emphasize how empty the landing bay was without the shuttle parked inside. Falco heard the thumping of his heavy boots with magnetized soles against the landing bay floor, and felt the thick heft of Peppy's scattergun by the strap on his right shoulder. ROB-64 walked beside him with a tapping of metal feet and a whirring of servomotors, red photoreceptor strip staring forward expressionless. The android was a lot heavier than usual, a large jetpack which interfaced through his USC socket mounted on his back, complete with a one shot laser-guided high explosive missile launcher. Hefted in the droid's left arm against his shoulder was a thick gray repeating plasma cannon with enough power to level a small apartment building. Somehow it didn't make Falco any more eager to step through the magnetic field at the end of the landing bay. The stars at the end of the trapezoidal opening seemed indifferent to his plight, the blackness of space complete and limitless in its void. He couldn't remember the last time he'd done an EVA, let alone to fight enemies. The lack of air in space meant that there was practically no sound, either. He wasn't used to fighting deaf.

Falco stopped at the edge of the landing bay opening, just before the invisible magnetic field that kept all of the air inside. He could almost feel the frigid cold cutting into his feathers like a blade. He'd seen the kinds of things Fox had run into on that ship. Falco told himself that he wasn't afraid, and that might've been true if he'd pounded a drink or two before this. But it wasn't true.

The tight scarlet pressure suit clung to every contour of his body, and he looked down at the helmet in his hands, spotting the plasma cutter mounted to his left wrist. It functioned off reflex actions; it would only light up and extend if he made a closed fist. He hoped he would remember that.

The avian ace pilot slipped the bright red helmet over his head, feeling it tighten around the back of his skull and seal airtight to the rigid collar around his neck. There was a moment in which he couldn't breathe and his heart began to tremble in his chest, then stale air rushed over his beak and he took in a quiet breath. Small readouts appeared at the edges of his face shield, showing the amount of oxygen he had remaining and a circular radar display that would indicate approaching enemies. It made him feel slightly better. A tiny rectangle appeared at the bottom edge of the face shield and he heard Peppy's voice in his ears.

"Falco," Peppy came over the comlink, "You out there yet?"

"Almost," Falco replied, swallowing.

"I need you out there. They're on the hull."

"Keep your pants on old man, I'm goin'."

Falco shrugged the charged particle scattergun off his shoulder, hefting the double-barreled brown weapon up. It was an old weapon of Peppy's, but apparently reliable. It fired a cloud of charged particles with similar energy to a disruptor weapon. This meant that one only had to aim it in the general direction of the target, and if enough of the charged particles hit there was a good chance that the target would be disintegrated. The drawback was that it had a particularly short range and ate up blaster gas like it was it's job. It was fueled by a gas magazine clip in the right side of the weapon, good for thirty shots. Falco had three clips, including the one currently in the weapon. Between his weapons and ROB's, he hoped they were packing enough heat.

He looked over to the android. ROB slowly looked over at him.

Falco gulped and whispered into his helmet, "Load music playlist. Workout mix."

It wasn't as if he'd be able to hear an approaching enemy out there, he'd have to rely on ROB and his radar display. Fighting waves of mutant freaks in silent zero gravity might be a bit easier with music. More like a WarGame. The thought made Falco feel a little better.

ROB's glowing red photoreceptor stared at him.

"Ya' ready ta' fuck shit up, tin man?" Falco grunted.

"**Affirmative**," the android replied flatly, readying his plasma cannon.

The avian smiled under his helmet and somewhat understood what Slippy meant when he said the droid had a sense of humor.

Then he exhaled, whispered, "Play workout mix," and stepped forward through the magnetic field.

A pounding industrial rock techno beat began to play in his ears as his legs felt the sensation of zero gravity. Tiny arcs of electricity leaped from the soles of his boots as they held him snugly to the grayish white hull of the _Great Fox_. They would only release him when the boots detected his feet moving to take a step. ROB strode out beside him, floating upwards before activating his jetpack and gliding past. Falco followed the android until he disappeared behind the ship's high tail fin, then watched as a heavy door slammed shut over the opening to the landing bay. He gazed at the endless field of blackness and stars all around, the bloody globe of Titania stretching out in the distance beyond as the steely ring swept high overhead. It was beautiful. Then a dot appeared on his radar, and a voice in his ears began to sing.

_Stand up...you've got to manage..._

A thin, gnarled hand clutched onto the side of the _Great Fox_'s massive central thrust nozzle just ahead, dragging up a brown female spaniel with empty eyes. Profusions of long pink feelers waved out of her back like wheat stalks in the wind, and she opened her mouth in a silent scream. Falco formed a closed fist and a rod extended from the apparatus on his wrist, glowing blue with a plasma blade. He took two heavy, slamming steps towards the creature as she reached for him with long claws, then he lashed out with the plasma blade and the spaniel-freak's arms drifted off into space. Hundreds of globes of black-red blood bubbled into the void, and she bared her teeth as tendrils began growing out of the stumps. Falco brought the blade down, cutting the freak vertically from forehead to waist, then took a step back and slashed horizontally. The freak drifted off into the blackness in four pieces, in a cloud of dark globes. Three more dots appeared on his radar, behind him, and he spun around.

_And if you complain once more...you'll meet an army of me..._

Three freaks crawled up onto his level, two over the starboard secondary thrust nozzle and one over the port thrust nozzle, reaching through the void with twisted arms and gory tentacles, and Falco didn't have time to tell what they used to be; it didn't look like they were covered in fur anymore. They clawed across the hull and launched themselves at him, and he sliced the arms off one as he shoved the scattergun into another's face and pulled the trigger. The weapon jerked against his arm and a cloud of yellow burst out of the barrels, and the creature tumbled backwards, sizzling into ash like burnt paper. He brought up the plasma blade and cut the third cleanly down the middle, lurching back to avoid the bubbles of blood as the twin parts drifted away. The armless first creature's neck extended on a stalk, mouth open unnaturally wide, and Falco had time to make out feline features before slicing it's head off. The head snapped at him as it drifted away and the body reached out, then Falco sliced away an arm and a leg before bringing his heavy boot up and kicking it off the hull. The body and various limbs tumbled into the blackness along with droplets of blood. His magnaboots thumped across the pale hull, moving past the landing bay opening onto the broad upper starboard wing, the red winged fox logo on the tail high above.

A snarling electric guitar solo began to pound into his ears as multiple dots appeared all around him, clawed hands and glistening feelers grabbing the sides of the wing to hoist malformed creatures with twisted faces onto the wing after him. Falco breathed, clutching the scattergun and holding it up against his shoulder, taking aim at the first creature he saw and blasting its torso apart. He shot at another, then another, but more kept coming, there were at least a dozen pulling themselves onto the wing after him. Two more came up and Falco blew the legs off one, watching it float away only to grab onto the creature next to it and thrust its leg stumps into its back, fusing with the creature into a two-torsoed monster that reached at him with four arms and multitudes of grabbing feelers. He heard his breaths echoing inside his helmet as the music played, firing one shot and then another into the thing, clouds of yellow charged particles blasting out of the twin barrels like a spilled cup of stars. The conjoined freak drifted off after the second shot, but there were two more practically on his right side. Falco jerked to the side and fired two shots, one into each creature, and they jerked backwards as his radar beeped with an approaching enemy right behind him. He ducked and made a fist with his left hand, the plasma cutter extending with a clean whine as he bisected a thin hairless canine at the waist. He looked back to his right to see the two creatures gaining, and he fired another shot at each, blasting the legs off one, only to see profusions of feelers grow from each and intertwine, fusing together in a six legged chimera with two heads. Falco's breathing gasped in and out in his helmet and he retreated back, scaling the side of the _Great Fox_, moving up towards its spine. At least six creatures came up after him, reaching with claws and tentacles and arthropod legs as snapping mouths formed in places they had no right to. Falco blasted shot after shot at the closest creatures, and his breath came out in a gasp as he saw the handful of dots closing in from behind on his radar.

He twisted behind, blasting a shot into the face of the nearest thing, backing away along the spine of the _Great Fox _towards the bridge. A creature that used to be an amphibian launched itself at him, its head replaced by an open circular mouth lined with five stalks tipped with red eyes. Falco fired a shot into it and sent it flying off into space, then he felt a tugging on his foot. He stumbled along the hull as a hairless vulpine with thin arms growing out of it's chest clutched his left foot in a steely grip. The plasma blade sliced through it's arm and Falco tugged his foot out of the claws, the magnetic force between his boots and the hull bringing his heel down with enough force to burst the freak's head open like a melon. The avian lurched back, further along the hull as he looked at both sides, seeing dozens of encroaching nightmares climbing up after him. Two frantic shots burst out of his scattergun, but the horde shrank closer.

Orange plasma bolts rained down from above, tearing into the surrounding creatures as ROB flew overhead on his jetpack. Falco let out an energized growl and hit the freaks with blast after blast as the singer in his helmet screamed lyrics in his ears. The rush of stabbing the last one in the face with his gun barrel and blowing it apart was far better than any WarGame.

He was breathing hard as ROB came down to join him on the hull, and he smiled under his helmet at the droid.

"**Hostiles dispatched with 100% efficiency**," ROB remarked.

"Falco," Peppy came over the comm, "Great job getting them off the hull. You still need to take care of the ones on the shuttle and on the hull of the _Starghast_."

"On it," Falco replied, looking over to the silver android, "Let's go, tin man."

The android offered his arm and Falco took hold awkwardly, remembering to lift his feet to release his boots electromagnetic grip on the hull.

"**Hold on**," ROB instructed emotionlessly as his jetpack growled to life. Falco gripped hard as the _Great Fox _slipped away, the endless black of space and the enormous globe of Titania stretching below. The air hissed out of his lungs in amazement. Weightless in a sea of stars, all the world literally below him. _This _was flying.

He almost didn't notice the approaching arrowhead shape of the _Pleiades _or the looming form of the _Starghast_ as ROB soared overhead silently through the void. He could see their crooked shapes crawling all over the hull. There was no time left to enjoy the view. ROB dove towards the shuttle, the ship growing enormous by the second, then he heard the droid say "**Brace for impact**," and suddenly Falco was throttled through the void towards the ship as the android released him. He pounded his feet down towards the shuttle, feeling the magnetic force drag him down along with his momentum, right into the back of a long, slender freak. His heavy boots plowed into the thing's spine with a crunch that he felt travel up his body, slamming it against the hull of the _Pleiades _as Falco pressed the end of the scattergun into its back and blew off its head, shoulders and arms. He stomped away from the thing across the shuttle's gray metal hull, bringing the scattergun up and blasting apart one more, then another. Orange plasma bolts rained down onto surrounding creatures as ROB circled overhead. He focused on their feet if they weren't close to another creature, on their center of mass if they were. After his fifth shot he brought up the scattergun to shoot a slimy-looking ram creature with taught skin and razor teeth, pulling the trigger to no effect.

Falco cursed and lurched backwards, lopping its head off with a swing of his plasma blade, but the thing kept coming. The rain of plasma bolts stopped and ROB slammed down onto the shuttle's hull, smashing the headless creature away with a swing of his heavy cannon. The android brought the cannon back up and laid down a wave of suppressing fire, and Falco ducked underneath the line of fire near ROB's legs, ejecting the scattergun's spent gas magazine and replacing it with another. He stood up to full height and pressed his back into ROB's, blasting apart one of the two freaks that he saw. The android twisted around and unleashed a hail of orange plasma bolts that tore apart the other freak.

"**One hostile remaining on this surface**," ROB indicated, "**If you please, Falco**."

The android pointed to an end of the shuttle and Falco nodded, stomping across the _Pleiades _as a thick claw scratched into the side of the ship. Falco leaned over the side, looking into the eye sockets of a saw-toothed equine with bony winglike protrusions bursting through its back, then he blew its top half off with a burst from the scattergun.

"**Several hostiles remain on the hull of CRV **_**Starghast**_," ROB said, "**Suggest we dispatch them with extreme prejudice.**"

"Falco, I've got the ship, it's on it's way back to the landing bay," Peppy said, "Just take care of the last of them."

"Let's finish this off right, tin-man," Falco said, stomping across the hull towards the android, "You ready?"

"**To...fuck shit up?**" ROB clarified slowly. The avian grinned as best he could with a beak and nodded at the android.

"**Affirmative**," the droid nodded, taking Falco by the arm, "**Once more, please hold on**."

The jetpack growled to life and Falco lifted his feet as they shot over the shuttle. He looked back at the five glowing engines as the _Pleiades_ rocketed towards the _Great Fox_. Looking forward, he saw the industrial form of the CRV _Starghast _lying ahead, covered in pipes and mounds and transparisteel-covered walkways over the metal surface. The command mound with its antiquated comm tower stabbed high above into the stars, and Falco looked down to see the profusion of freaks scattered over the surface.

"**Prepare for point insertion and suppressing fire**," ROB indicated, diving down towards the ship, releasing Falco. He extended the plasma blade as his feet slammed into the metal hull, slicing through the bodies of two canine freaks standing side by side. Their cleaved bodies reached for him and tendrils sprouted to weave them together into a new form, and Falco brought up the scattergun and blasted them apart with one shot, then another. ROB thumped down behind him and rained orange plasma bolts at approaching creatures, Falco blasting apart one freak then slicing the legs off another and kicking it into space.

The top of the ship quickly seemed empty and ROB stopped firing.

"**Falco**," ROB said, and he looked over at the droid, past him, and Falco's blue eyes went wide.

A massive creature made of several different people slithered across the hull, silent and slow and _enormous_. Falco made out six arms, an equine head with a long snout full of fangs growing out of the side of it's skull, and a wrinkled green canine torso wriggling out of where the right hip should've been. The asymmetrical freak had more mouths and arms than it had any right to, and it dragged itself across the metal on eight thick tentacles.

"Holy shit that's ugly," Falco murmured, unable to comprehend, and as it loomed closer the scattergun in his hands seemed useless.

"**Target locked. Stand clear**," ROB instructed, leaning forward as a thick missile extended from the top of the jetpack.

A plume of white smoke billowed around the android as the song in Falco's ears reached it's crescendo, streaking through the vacuum into the hodgepodge thing. There was an orange-white burst, and the thing blasted apart in a cloud of black-red globes and tumbling limbs.

"YEAH!" Falco shouted, "We won, dude!"

"**Affirmative, fellow dude**," ROB replied, looking back, then tilting his head to the side, "**Consider re-evaluation of previous statement**."

Falco followed ROB's gaze to see claws and feelers and tentacles as more things appeared from around the corners of the hull fixtures.

"Shit," Falco hissed, "We still got some clean-up. Round two."

"**This unit concurs**," ROB said.

The ace pilot and the android raised their weapons as the horde approached in silence.

* * *

Fox lurched forward through the ducts, grunting out every breath as the beeping of Slippy's motion tracker rebounded off the stamped metal walls. The beam of his flashlight swayed over the surfaces ahead, the air warm and thick with the odor of pungent filth all around.

"Nineteen meters behind, gaining!" Slippy cried as Fox grunted his way down the shaft, hefting his incinerator up with one hand.

"How's it in here with us?" Alice demanded with a strained voice, "We sealed the hatches!"

"It was already here," Slippy squeaked, "Fifteen meters, oh God! It's moving around us!"

A squealing loud hissing shot up the ducts toward them, and Fox glanced back down the shafts to get a fresh wave of the vile sewage smell in his face.

"Hurry!" he barked, "We can still make it out."

He scooted forward, gritting his teeth as his ears scraped against the top of the ducts, the smell so intense his eyes were beginning to water. A fixture in the duct wall thudded into Fox's shoulder and he ignored the pain, holding his light and his incinerator steady into the shadowed darkness. He could make out ahead a series of yellow indicator lights around another spinning fan, just barely illuminated by his flashlight. Crawling in the dark with the hot air blown into his face made him think of being trapped in a beehive for some reason.

"Krystal, you see anything?" Fox shouted, dragging himself another meter.

"No!" The vixen called back, her voice uneven.

The beeping of Slippy's motion tracker went silent like a heart attack.

"Oh no! No no no no," the amphibian mumbled, "Fox! Fox I lost the signal!"

"What?!"

"I'm—I'm—I'm not picking it up anymore, it was twelve meters back to the right and now it's just gone I don't know its around here somewhere but I don't know where," Slippy babbled, tripping over his own words.

"Keep moving!" Fox ordered, "Keep trying to find it!"

The stench was thrown in his face, then the whistling hiss rang into Fox's ears and something swept in front of the fan with the yellow indicator lights ahead. Slippy and Alice yelled as Fox fell back and brought up the incinerator, pulling the trigger as it rushed up the shaft. Fire roared to meet the thing, lighting the shaft in orange, and he glimpsed details that his mind couldn't process: no body, just green eyes and screaming mouths and arms and tentacles reaching from a formless black ooze that filled the shaft. Then the flames swirled around the creature and squeals stung Fox's ears before it surged back down the tunnel in a haze of black smoke.

"WHAT _IS_ THAT?!" someone shrieked, and Fox never knew who, too focused on keeping his eyes open through the smoke as he glimpsed the rightwards juncture he'd been waiting for.

"Just move!" he yelled, "We're getting out of here!"

"It's moving right at us!" Slippy screamed, his motion tracker beeping as they tore down the junction.

"Don't let it follow!" Fox snapped, and the tunnel glowing orange as Krystal blasted a surge of flame from her incinerator behind them.

The ladder down to the next level wasn't far, then it was just a short length of duct work to get to the hatch that would open into the mess hall and safety. They just had to make it there.

Slippy's strained breathing was getting more anxious, loud and heavy behind Fox as they scrambled down the shafts, the awful stench around them as hissing squeals pierced through the darkness.

"Oh God oh God it's going to find us we have to move! We gotta get out of here now oh God what is that thing oh God-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Alice snarled over Slippy's whining and the beeps of his motion tracker.

"Keep going Slippy just keep going don't think about it!" Fox snapped, seeing the shaft open up into a vertical passage with a ladder ahead, outlined in his flashlight. He didn't bother this time with sending a burst in each direction, not with Slippy panicking about how the thing was right behind them, Fox grabbed both sides of the ladder and dropped down one level, the soles of his boots smashing into the metal.

"Just follow me!" Fox yelled, drawing back to the section of tunnel ahead, shining his light down and finding nothing but more darkness.

"We gotta get out of here we gotta get out of here," Slippy stammered desperately, dropping down the ladder, his motion tracker beeping, "It's coming! Move! Move Fox!"

Fox heard a sound and swung his flashlight back, illuminating Slippy's terrified moisture-ridden face as he crawled towards him, a guttural hiss ringing up the shaft. Slippy kept sobbing at him to move, to hurry, and he just noticed the glistening black tendril slither across the metal behind the amphibian, too quick for Fox to say something. He heard himself yelling Slippy's name, reaching for him, watching the tendril lash around Slippy's ankle and yank him off his feet. The amphibian's face hit the floor of the ducts as the tentacle dragged him screaming into the dark.

* * *

**Auto-landing approach satisfactory, tractor beam assist engaged. Slave signal nominal**, the holographic words flashed in front of Peppy's face as he manipulated the controls on the command chair's mounted computer terminal. Above the readouts of distance and signal strength, there was a wire-frame layout of _Great Fox_'s landing bay drawn by the sensors on the _Pleiades_. The old leporid's jaw tightened and his brown eyes narrowed as he remotely guided the shuttle into the bay. It was just a few more meters...

**Auto-landing complete, initiate touchdown**, the computer read, and Peppy pressed a button to order the ship to the ground. He breathed and sat back, smiling under his furry whiskers. Peppy lurched out of the chair and stood to full height, cracking his knuckles and gazing out of the bridge viewport at the CRV _Starghast_. It felt like he'd scored a victory over the malevolent ship.

He brought up his wrist and spoke into the bracelet-mounted comlink.

"Falco, report in. The shuttle's in the landing bay, you holding up?"

"Sure thing, old man," the avian's voice came back after a few seconds, coupled with a chirp of static, "ROB an' I are just moppin' up now. Want us ta' head back?"

"Yeah," Peppy nodded, even though Falco couldn't see him, "We need to move _Great Fox _a more comfortable distance from the ship so those things don't jump on the hull again. But good job. They didn't touch you, did they?"

"Not a scratch," Falco came back, "It was almost fun. Any word from tha' fuzzball?"

Peppy looked over to the holographic screens still projected in front of the command chair. In all three squares, the display showed gray static and the words **No Signal**.

"They're still in the shafts. Hope they're alright," Peppy remarked, turning back to look out the viewport.

"Same here," Falco said, "ROB's about ta' lift me back over. Hang tight til' we get back. An' be careful."

"What for?"

"Until me an' ROB can go over tha' shuttle ourselves. Make sure one a' those things didn't hitch a ride inside."

"Good point," Peppy grunted, "See you soon."

Falco's reply over the comlink almost masked the low hiss of the bridge doors opening, and even then Peppy was more confused than scared. Then he turned around and saw the figure at the doors. A leporid, thin and naked and male with brown fur stood at the entrance, regarding Peppy with empty bloodshot eyes. Peppy's mouth went dry as he stared at the creature and the creature stared at him. Aside from the patches of bald, glistening flesh on it's body, the leporid looked almost normal. Peppy was unarmed, unprotected, and the thing seemed to realize this. It tilted its head at him curiously, and Peppy took one step and then another to the cart of weapons he'd brought in. Now that he looked at them, the only one really useful seemed to be the plasma cutter. The rabbit-creature's pink eyes followed Peppy's shaking arm as he gripped the plasma cutter and brought it up. It felt pathetic in his hand.

The rabbit-creature gurgled, then it's arms and shoulders began to tremor as blood gushed out of it's nose, it's mouth, it's eyes, splashing across the white floor of the bridge. With a wet cracking sound the lower jaw split apart in a pair of toothed mandibles and a long gray tongue wriggled out, pink feelers writhing out of its back. Long black talons extended from each of it's fingers and it raised its arms towards Peppy. The thing gurgled something at him that sounded almost like words. Peppy's heart was pounding in his chest, and he surprised himself with his own calm as he gripped the plasma cutter. He took a breath and let it out as he stared at the thing across the room.

"Viv," Peppy whispered, "Vix...James... looks like I'll be seeing you guys soon."

He pressed a button and the plasma blade extended with a high-pitched whine as the bridge shook with the creature's roar. It came forward and Peppy swung his plasma cutter.

Something red spattered across the _Great Fox_'s viewport.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hope you guys liked this one. I'm trying to raise the stakes, so expect surprises in the next two chapters. The end may be closer than you think. If you like what you just read, leave me a review-TU**


	7. The Dragon

**Author's Note: Hey. I'm not dead and neither is this story. Sorry it's been so long. Life stuff got in the way. But I feel like I picked a good stopping point, given the turn the plot takes from here. And you can expect more regular updates after this one. The horror isn't over yet.-TU**

* * *

**-The Dragon-**

Fox didn't have time to think, there was just the knee-jerk reaction to seeing his oldest friend dragged screaming to his death. Slippy's fingers raked desperately into the metal, finding no grip and sliding backwards with a squeak then Fox dove forward, grabbing the amphibian's wrist. His chest slammed into the ductwork and his eyes met Slippy's, bulbous and weeping and terrified. He tried to say something but a squealing hiss from the darkness cut him off as he was dragged violently down the shaft with Fox in tow. The metal grooves of the duct surface stubbed over his legs and chest and he brought up the incinerator with gritted teeth, knocking it against the walls as he tried to get a shot. A guttural squeal erupted chillingly close and the glowrod tumbled out of Slippy's hand, illuminating the eldritch horror in front of them: a terrible, barely describable thing, a shapeless mass of flowing black ooze and protoplasmic bubbles that nearly glowed, with myriads of green eyes bubbling to the surface, only to pop and form hideous jagged-toothed mouths. Clawed black hands randomly shot out and sank back into the mass as writhing tentacles spilled out frantically. Squeals hissed out of the mouths with a sharp piping sound that rang in Fox's ears, and he swung the incinerator clumsily at the thing and pulled the trigger. A bloom of orange fire swept out and the thing screamed, shrinking backwards down the duct before dragging Slippy and Fox another few meters towards it. Slippy shrieked something incomprehensible and Fox brought up the incinerator again, but a pair of black tarlike arms reached out of the darkness and tore it out of Fox's hands, absorbing the weapon in a blink. Fox yelled at Slippy not to let go, and the amphibian twisted around and pulled out his plasma cutter, the blue blade extending with a whine. The plasma blade sliced through the tentacle around Slippy's ankle and they came to a stop as the severed limb shrank back into the black mass. Then the thing oozed forward and reached towards them with dozens of new tentacles, Fox moaning in disgust as he wrenched his blaster pistol out of his holster.

Slippy was screaming, babbling as a thick tentacle extended out of the formless mass, writhing over his face, then splitting open to form a strip of sharp black teeth, squirming and centipede-like. Fox blasted a red bolt into one of the thing's eyes, popping it with a loud squealing sound, and he dragged Slippy back. Slippy reached out for the duct wall to get to his feet and the strip of teeth whipped around his hand, tearing into his flesh.

"NO!" Fox yelled, firing again, hearing little over Slippy's screams. The teeth tore away from Slippy's hand with a horrible ripping, spattering Fox's fur with blood as Slippy howled. He grabbed Slippy's arm, dragging him, and the strip of teeth came back as more tentacles extended, reaching for them both.

Krystal shoved him against the wall of the ducts, snarling "Move!" as she brought up her incinerator and blasted a jet of flames into the creature. The bubbling horror drew back from the orange gleam with a hiss, sprouting new arms and tentacles that grabbed for them. He saw the grenade in Krystal's hand as she pressed the button, and he tried to stop her from flinging it down the shaft. It was too close, the blast would kill them all.

The gray cylinder tumbled down the shaft towards the creature and Fox was yelling something. Krystal tore the reflector device from Fox's belt, lurched forward and pressed the button. The device lit up and a hexagonal blue shield flashed over the space in front of them, and Fox put his arms around his head. The bright light of the explosion burned through his eyelids and the blast tore into his eardrums, a wave of pressure and heat through his fur. For some reason there was no pain, no sense of oblivion, only a shriek like a plasma engine. He opened his eyes to get a last glimpse of the reflector shield rippling and glowing with tension just before it disappeared. When it vanished, the length of shaft ahead was empty, aside from a fine coating of smoking, acrid tar.

It took Fox a second to process what had happened: Krystal had used his reflector shield to protect them from the grenade's explosion, directing the full force of the blast at the creature and utterly annihilating it.

His breath heavy, he was just able to make out her aqua eyes in the darkness, her body crushed up against his.

"Did you _know _that would work?" Fox remarked with astonishment.

"No," the vixen whispered, shaking her head.

He couldn't think of anything in response.

Slippy's cries brought them back to reality, and Krystal's flashlight revealed him crouching against the side of the duct, his blue eyes gushing with tears and swollen with horror as rivulets of blood flowed down his arm from the gash across his left hand. He'd lost his cap somehow.

"Slippy," Fox breathed, his voice cracking.

"Oh no," Slippy sobbed, "Oh no no no, please..."

"Try to calm down," Fox intoned, moving towards him, "Just breathe."

"Don't touch me!" Slippy cried, "Don't touch me, it'll spread to you. Ahhhh! It burns! I can feel them moving! I feel them inside."

"Somebody get a bandage! We've got to stop the bleeding."

"I'm done," Slippy wailed, "Don't bother, I'm done, they're going to tear their way through me now."

"Slippy I need you to be quiet, I need you to calm down," Krystal whispered, taking care not to touch Slippy's wound.

"It hurts so bad. It hurts so bad, I'm going to die. I'm going to die now, I know it."

Fox was about to call out to Alice when he saw her crouched up against the wall of the duct, staring silently with violet eyes. There was a grim frown on her face, and without a word she produced the same medkit that Slippy had given her hours ago. Fox took the kit and opened it up, nodding graciously and moving back towards Slippy. It took a few more moments to calm him down enough so he could wrap the synthflesh bandage around his wound. It stopped the bleeding, but Slippy's face was still pale and haunted. He put a glove over the hand, to better make sure he didn't infect the rest of them. They made their way down the ducts, Slippy's trembling sobs following them until they reached the iris-shaped hatch that they'd been looking for. Alice and Krystal moved forward to begin cutting into the hatch, and Fox looked back at Slippy as he slouched into the duct wall. Tears, sweat and spittle made the amphibian's face slicker than usual.

Fox looked down at Slippy's arm, at the glove-covered hand and tried not to think about what it meant. He'd considered burning Alice on the possibility she could be infected. What was he supposed to do with Slippy?

"It still burns," Slippy breathed, barely audible over the whining of the plasma cutter shearing into the metal hatch, "I can feel it spreading up my arm."

Fox put a hand on Slippy's shoulder and looked at him. After a few moments, the amphibian met his gaze.

"How long?" Fox whispered.

Slippy swallowed.

"Maybe a few hours. Maybe?"

He started to cry again.

"That means we've got time," Fox said, squeezing his shoulder, "We'll find the Source and we'll kill it. I won't let it take you, I won't let it change you. I promise."

"Look around," Slippy choked, "None of us are getting out of here. Not me, not you. It's moving up my arm, Fox, it's in my arm. I can feel it, it's burning in my arm..."

"_Slippy_," Fox whispered, "Just try to calm down. Try to breathe. It'll be okay-"

"Stop telling me I'm okay, I'm not okay I'm not okay...you can't save me Fox; it's counting on you to try."

All that Fox could do was swallow.

"We're through," Alice informed them, kicking at the hatch.

"We're going into the mess hall," Fox told him, "Can you get up? Can you try for me?"

"Yeah," Slippy nodded, his lip trembling and his voice tiny, "Yeah I'll try." Slippy heaved forward and crawled behind Fox, and up ahead he heard the hatch give way with a metal squeak. A circle of bright light appeared at the end of the shaft, outlining the shapes of Alice and Krystal. The cheetah crawled through the hatch, followed by the vixen, and Fox scrambled towards the light, looking back to make sure Slippy was following. Then he pushed out of the hatch and dropped a short distance, his boots thudding into a clean gray floor. The lights all around were bright, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. He heard noises, sounds of panic and alarm and movement, then the sound of Slippy dropping to the ground next to him. Dark blurs swarmed around them, and Fox suddenly realized that these were all people. His eyes adjusted and he saw gray ceilings with lit glowlamps, filling out a much more bright and open space than he'd ever seen on the _Starghast. _The people all around him were in various uniforms and of various species, and they did not look happy to see him. Their faces were strained with fear, and several in the surrounding group held makeshift fire bombs, knives, pipes and blaster rifles. He saw one shaggy-looking dog in a security uniform holding an incinerator. All of the weapons were pointed at them. Fox put his hands up and looked slowly at Krystal, then Alice, backing away from the encroaching armed crowd. Slippy's bottom lip trembled even more.

* * *

The slowly opening landing bay doors filled Falco with thoughts of disaster, and he shoved his way between them as soon as there was room. His magnaboots slowed his pace as he sprinted down the A Deck corridor, passing by the doors to the _Great Fox's _armory and gym room, ROB speeding after him with a tapping of metal feet and a whine of servomotors. Punching into the call button for the turbolift, Falco's chest heaved and he tugged at his helmet, feeling it release from the collar of his pressure suit. The helmet clattered to the floor as the lift doors slid open. The avian and the android piled in and frantically pressed the button for B Deck.

"Peppy!" Falco snapped into his comlink, "Peppy, answer me!"

There was no response, and the doors took their sweet time closing up. Falco stabbed the B Deck button repeatedly with his fingers, and knowing that it would make no difference only frustrated him more.

"Come on come on come _on_! Fuck!" Falco cursed as the lift dropped smoothly down one level and rotated around. The doors slid open into the short gray hallway ending with the double doors to the bridge.

Falco's lunge forward towards the doors was stopped short by ROB's metal hand gripping tightly to his shoulder. He looked back into the droid's glowing red photoreceptor, his forehead wrinkled with irritation.

"**Exercise caution**," ROB intoned cautiously, "**It may not be Peppy anymore**."

"Fuck that," Falco grunted, wresting out of the droid's grip and storming the bridge doors, hefting the double-barreled particle scattergun upwards. The doors slid apart to sounds of high-pitched whining and the gurgling splatter of torn flesh and spilling blood. Red was smeared and pooling around the floor of the bridge, and Falco's eyes trailed the floor near the command chair, where a pair of gangly furred legs were twitching, attached to a writhing body.

A figure in a white coat was leaning over it, slicing into the body with a howling plasma cutter. Falco took aim with his scattergun and heard a groan as red-black blood spewed from the thing, and Peppy Hare leaned back, face twisted in disgust as entrails stained his Team StarFox coat. Falco's eyes brightened and he lowered the gun as Peppy sliced the creature from the top of it's head down, hearing it wiggle and squeal in protest. Peppy's blade cut to the mid torso of the creature and the entire chest caved open with a deep gasp of air, jagged gray shards of teeth lining the opening. Peppy yelped and stumbled back as the jaws snapped shut, swallowing the cutter. The teeth gnashed open and closed at them, thin pink feelers worming their way out of the wide fleshy mouth as the arms and legs of the creature throbbed and convulsed. The rabbit scooted out of the way and Falco pulled the trigger, sending a hail of yellow charged particles into the thing's mouth with a ringing boom, shattering the teeth and tearing into the rippling flesh.

He made a fist with his left hand and the mounted plasma cutter extended with a blue glow. Falco brought it between the creature's legs, slicing upwards into the side of the scorched grinning mouth, black blood spattering into the floor as the body squirmed and tried to pull itself back together. The avian slid away and blasted the thing with the scattergun again, the flesh sizzling and quivering into stillness. The creature went quiet, and all that Falco could hear was his and Peppy's ragged breaths. The old rabbit slouched on the floor with his fur matted in sweat and his ears falling in different directions, and as he gulped down a breath he looked up at Falco and huffed, "Thanks."

Falco just nodded, looking from the mangled mass of the creature on the floor to the thick maroon blood staining Peppy's coat. The rabbit winced and put a hand to his breast.

"**Do you require medical attention?**" ROB inquired, "**Sensors indicate increasing cardiac arrhythmia**."

"I'll be fine," Peppy wheezed, "Just make sure the bastard's dead."

"It's dead," Falco grunted, nudging the carcass with his boot, "I said be careful, old man."

"It came in from the landing bay..." Peppy breathed, his face relaxing, "It rode the turbolift right down here. It had to _know _where the bridge was. How could it know that?"

Falco exhaled unevenly, the corners of his beak curling towards the ground.

"Dunno. Ya' got it's blood on your coat. And your glasses, man."

Peppy let out a quiet curse and shrugged out of his coat, wiping his glasses off on the knee of his orange flightsuit before slipping them back on the bridge of his nose. He tried to lurch back onto his feet and grunted with the effort, then reached out to Falco from the floor. The avian glanced at the creature's corpse, then at the stains on Peppy's coat. He didn't take Peppy's hand.

"What?" Peppy said, "Help me up."

The gloved hands of Falco's pressure suit wrapped around Peppy's fingers and hauled the leporid to his feet. As Peppy dusted himself off, Falco took a step back and glanced out of the corner of his eye at the body of the creature. The body belonged to a rabbit, and the face was so disfigured that it was impossible to determine what it might've originally looked like. The raptor's icy blue eyes trained themselves back on Peppy.

"You sayin' it came straight down here? It knew how ta' work a turbolift? _And _where tha' bridge was?" Falco murmured.

"It must have," Peppy breathed, glancing through the viewport at the profile of the _Starghast_.

"How long were you alone with it?" the avian probed quietly.

"I turned around and it was there, Falco," Peppy came back sternly, "What are you looking at me like that for?"

Falco didn't answer immediately. He'd watched Fox endure the nightmares on the _Starghast_ and faced hordes of them outside, but the inside of the _Great Fox _had been a quarantined sanctuary from the night's horrors. Now no place was safe. He breathed softly out of his beak, his hands tightening on the scattergun in his hands. ROB took a half step back away from them.

"I don't know," Falco mumbled.

"What?"

"I said I don't know anymore," the avian growled.

ROB's head swiveled back and forth between them. His programming hadn't prepared him for this.

"Listen," Peppy said calmly, keeping his hands where Falco could see them, "I know tonight's been a lot to handle. Making trust a pretty tall order. But I _need _you to trust me-"

"You got it's _blood _on ya. We're not even supposed ta' _touch _these things, right?"

"I give you my word, none of it got on my body," Peppy said slowly, "I promise I'm still me."

"You'd say that no matter what," Falco retorted, shaking his head slowly, "Don't make it true."

Peppy's gut heaved up and down under his belt and he let out a ragged breath, glancing at ROB, but the android refused to get involved. The rabbit cast a scornful glare at the CRV _Starghast _before his warm brown eyes trained back on Falco's cold blues.

"You saw what Fox saw back there," Peppy remarked hoarsely, "'Welcome home Fox'? This is more than just the Aparoids coming back from the dead. These things know _us_. As soon as one of them got on this ship it knew right where to go. I don't know what it means. Here's what I do know: The most dangerous weapon these things have isn't teeth or claws. It's paranoia. Fear. Fear changes everything. It eats away at the trust we need to work together, consumes the will to act and stop them. It isolates us, makes us _prey_. And that's how we'll lose."

The bottom jaw of Falco's beak worked over in consideration, but he kept the scattergun trained on Peppy. Blue feathers on his brow bristled with concentration and anxiety. Peppy swallowed, staring down the barrel of the gun.

"We're not helping Fox by doing this," the rabbit intoned, "Keep the gun handy. Lock me up somewhere if you want. I'll yield command to you. Because I _trust _you."

Silence.

Falco's hard raptor's eyes were softened, and his grip on the scattergun was loose. Something in the back of his mind said it would be so much easier with a drink. It would calm his nerves. He wasn't sure if the disgust at his own weakness was apparent on his face, but the mental revulsion was a somehow sobering feeling. He licked the roof of his beak and breathed out through his nostrils, feeling his heart steady into a more comfortable rhythm.

"ROB," Falco grunted, lowering the scattergun.

"**Falco**," the android returned.

"We got a flamethrower in the armory, right?"

"**Affirmative**."

"Go get it."

The android turned on a heel and exited through the doors. Peppy sighed and slowly lowered his hands.

"If ya' felt anything, you'd tell me, right?" Falco demanded quietly.

Peppy nodded.

"I'm gonna give this ta' ROB when he comes back," Falco explained, hefting the scattergun, "I'm gonna have tha' flamethrower. Don't do anything ta' make me use it."

"Where do you want me to sit?" Peppy inquired.

"Forward comms console, next ta' where ROB's gonna be," he said, gesturing with the scattergun.

Peppy slowly made his way over to the console and sat down in the seat. Falco walked around the bloody remains of the rabbit creature on the floor and slid into the brown leather commander's chair, never once taking his eyes off Peppy.

"Okay..." Falco breathed, "Let's get back ta' work."

"Thank you for listening, Falco," Peppy said.

"Just be you, old man," Falco returned quietly, "Just be you."

A crackling over the sound system joined a flickering in the three holographic screens projected in front of the command chair. The gray static and the heading **No Signal **in all three screens was suddenly replaced with live footage.

"Thank God, they're out of the ducts," Peppy sighed, looking over his shoulder at the screens. Falco smiled with relief, but the smile was quick to fade as he took in the sight in all three screens. It looked like Fox, Krystal and Slippy were all surrounded by people. More than a few were holding weapons.

* * *

Even when the only sound is a mangled, cacophonous buzz, the disposition of a crowd is not overly hard to read. One can read it in the tone of the massed voices, the faces of those in the front row, the energy given off by the mass as a whole. Fox could read the disposition of this crowd, and the word that came to mind was _fragile_. The faces were not so much angry as terrified, unsteady hands brandishing makeshift weapons. The idea that Fox and company were here to rescue them did not seem to occur, and they appeared much more concerned with the prospect of an unexpected and unwanted intrusion into their delicate refuge.

Scattered snippets of _"who are they?" _and panicked remarks about the breach of the maintenance duct access hatch flitted around Fox's head, and he glanced at Krystal, then Alice. Slippy was trembling behind him, his eyes watering as he hid his left hand in the pocket of his Team StarFox jacket.

"Who the hell are you?!" someone yelled from the crowd, and the faces slowly grew more hostile as the mob closed in.

Fox raised his arms and shouted, "Everyone calm down! We're not infected. The company sent us to rescue you!"

"Fuck the company!" a brown-furred bulldog snapped, and several others shouted in support.

"They left us here to die!" a random voice in the crowd shouted, and some people raised makeshift spears. "How are we supposed to keep them out if _you_ get in?!"

Fox opened his mouth to reply when a tall and thin borzoi female emerged from the crowd and cried, "Do not listen to a word they say. They are from the _outside_, and outside these doors there is only death. It's impossible for a person to survive out there long enough to make it here. We should burn them. Right here. Right now!"

Fox's jaws tightened indignantly at first, then his eyes widened with shock as other voices began shouting "Burn them! Burn the outsiders!" Spears were brought up and projectiles were aimed as Fox's circle of space grew smaller.

He was about to reach for his pistol when a yellow plumed avian male with blue highlights around his eyes emerged, raising his arms with a blaster rifle in his hands. He was wearing a dark blue uniform like Alice's and his hoarse voice rang up at the ceiling as he shouted "Enough!"

The crowd was still agitated and the borzoi's jaw ground with irritation, but three other males in blue uniforms shoved their way through the crowd, two holding blaster rifles and one holding an incinerator.

"I want quiet, now!" the avian barked, and the buzzing of the mob began to settle as the four armed personnel joined Fox and his group. Some backed away as the newcomers brandished their weapons.

"You _would _suffer the damned to walk among us," the borzoi hissed.

"Shut up," the avian fired back angrily, "We started out waiting for rescuers, we're not torching them as soon as they arrive."

"How are four of them supposed to rescue all of us?" a female voice called out, and several others in the crowd voiced their support. The borzoi seized her chance.

"They were likely part of a larger group," she announced, "Which was eaten. Consumed. Twisted. And these four shapes have come to tempt us into surrendering our sanctuary."

The crowd grew agitated again. Fox stepped forward.

"We're with the StarFox Team," he proclaimed, "Maybe you've heard of us. I'm Fox McCloud, I'm here to help you."

"Are you?" the borzoi smirked, "Are you _really _Fox McCloud?"

Fox pulled the folds of his white jacket open so that she could see the name patch sewn into his flight suit and replied, "Who else would I be?"

"A monster," she returned sharply, "A fallen soul, twisted and corrupted by the Dragon."

Fox's blood turned to ice and he couldn't think of a single thing to say. Behind him, Slippy's shoulders trembled and Krystal's brow furrowed with confusion. Alice hissed through her nose and took a stand next to Fox, rifle held at waist level.

"Some of you know me. My name's Adelaide Ploughman, I was a security lieutenant here, I had a job on this ship just like all of you did before this," Alice stated, and Fox gave her a sideways glance but kept his mouth shut, "I can vouch for him. They're here to help. They rescued me and helped me make it here. We're all still people."

A hostile outburst shot out from the crowd as accusing fingers were pointed towards Alice.

"If you've been out _there _this whole time you're the most likely to be a monster out of _anyone_," the borzoi derided, and several others shouted in agreement. Alice bared her teeth in frustration but she took a step back. Fox made a fist with his hands, unsure of what to do.

"Any touch of impurity will spread, and consume the whole, unless it is cast out," the borzoi intoned, violently gesturing with her paws as she stepped forward, turning her back to Fox to address the crowd, singling some individuals out, "Would you allow that chance, would you risk your immortal soul on these four saving all of us? Would you? Would you? What do you put your faith in? These four fallible, corruptible strangers? Or Mother Lyla above? If you put your faith in Her you cannot suffer the unclean to walk among us. We _must _burn them. Burn them out!"

"Burn them out!" others shouted, and the borzoi raised her hands and repeated the phrase.

"We're _not _burning anyone that could be a person!" the yellow avian bellowed over the shouts.

"We don't have to," a reedy voice called, making it's way through the crowd. The voices grew quiet and the masses parted for a beefy male chimpanzee with a gray beard wearing a lab coat, who slowly walked to join the yellow feathered avian with a calm, satisfied smile. Out of everyone in the room, he appeared to be the only one that was completely calm. Fox saw a crooked name badge on his lapel with the label FINCH.

"Everyone please listen, I've got a solution that I think everyone will agree with," Finch remarked, "Now regardless of whether our new guests are here to rescue us or capable of doing so, let's not forget that we _are _in a quarantine here. This is still a scientific ship and we are _all _here in the name of science, so let's be _rational_. We can handle our new guests the same way we've handled our other questionable cases, through isolation and eventual testing. I've nearly completed the refinements for our detection exam, and I'm sure that our guests are amiable to being the first subjects. Soon we'll be able to rest a little easier. Meanwhile, we can resume our duties and make sure the hatch is sealed once again. I'm sure that's acceptable to everyone."

Just as some of the group began to voice their agreement, the borzoi proclaimed acidly, "You males of science shoulder so much blame for our punishment. Your pride is an affront to the Mother of Stars, and you will feel Her wrath soon enough. There _is _no material test to detect the corruption of the soul. Unless we remain vigilant the remaining righteous will be defiled, their flesh consumed and their souls twisted by the Dragon."

"The Dragon?" Krystal muttered.

"It's from the Lylatian Tome," Alice whispered quickly, "It's a shape-shifting dragon named Kalimo that wants to eat the stars and bring about the apocalypse."

Krystal made a face.

Finch was unfazed by the borzoi, his smile only growing warmer.

"We're all adults here, Dorothea," the chimpanzee remarked, "You can believe what you want, just respect those that don't."

"You still don't get it, you stupid, stupid man," Dorothea admonished, shaking her head, "Doubters will doubt until the end, but there are none so blind as those that will not see. An army of the damned is stewing beyond those doors, we have all witnessed friends mangled into monstrous form. This is not a _quarantine _or an _emergency_. This is the Adjudication. This is the end of _days_. And Lyla will only come for her faithful."

Finch only kept smiling. The yellow plumed avian growled, "We won't be ruled by terror, and certainly not by superstition. Back off, Winters."

"You think you have power because you have some title. Because you have the guns," Dorothea whispered, "But those are just words, objects. Crafted by sinners to give themselves an illusion of control. Faith in the Mother can move worlds. By the time you understand, it'll be too late to save you."

The borzoi and the avian stared each other down for a few moments, then the avian looked around at the gathered crowd and said, "Everyone go back to your duties. We'll be placing them into custody and that's the end of it. We start testing soon."

The crowd dispersed and thinned after a few moments, Dorothea shaking her head knowingly before slinking away with the rest of them. The avian and the other three uniformed males relaxed, and Fox felt an ache in his shoulders as the built-up tension released. The avian sighed and looked at Alice, smiling for a moment.

"Ploughman," the avian sighed, "You look better than I would've expected."

"Barker," Alice smirked, "You look like shit."

"A month's worth of malnutrition and sleep deprivation," the avian grunted, scratching the yellow feathers covering his neck, "Not to mention stress. I'm supposed to be the one in charge here, but it feels less and less like that."

The avian turned to one of the armed males in uniform, a gray and rather short equine, then pointed up at the breached maintenance hatch on the upper part of the wall near the ceiling, "Allred, get a team on closing that up _now. _Stevens, you take up watch with King until it's done. Anything starts coming down that shaft, you torch the hell out of it, you hear me?"

The shaggy white canine holding the incinerator nodded and took a position below the open hatch with a dark skinned reptilian holding a blaster rifle.

The avian called over to a brown leporid named Wes and handed him the blaster rifle in his hands, instructing him to patrol the perimeter, then he finally looked at Fox.

"First Lieutenant Kurt Barker," the avian introduced, "Officer of the Watch and, I guess, the commander of the _Starghast_."

"Fox McCl-"

"I heard you the first time, Commander," Barker cut off with a smirk, "I was in Corneria City during the surprise attack in '31. Saw your team fly in and turn the battle around, just the four of you. I would shake your hand, but we've got to be serious about the quarantine. If any of these people thought there was a chance you're contaminated, I don't think we could stop them."

Fox peeked over his shoulder at Slippy, and saw Krystal putting a reassuring arm around his shoulders. His eyes had stopped watering, but his bottom lip still had a slight tremble, and he looked down at the ground.

"Speaking of which, I'll have to ask for your weapons. At least for now. Quarantine rules," Barker said, his gravelly voice dropping to an even graver octave.

"You'll have to excuse it, Commander McCloud," the chimpanzee in the lab coat smiled, "Don't get us wrong, we're grateful to finally have rescue from the company, even more so that it's Team StarFox. Once we make sure your system is free of Aparoid nanites you'll have our full cooperation."

Barker called over a female otter in a form-fitting yellow jumpsuit, who took the blaster rifle from Alice and the incinerator from Krystal. Slippy handed over his MacTech XR-12 automatic pistol, having lost his blaster rifle during the encounter in the maintenance ducts.

"So you've worked out a test to detect if someone's infected or not? Doctor...?" Fox trailed off.

"Finch," the chimpanzee answered, "Saruman Finch. But call me Saru; everyone does. In a sense, yes. I was the director of the science labs on the ship, the core memory project was a special interest of mine. Fascinating organisms, the nanites, truly fascinating. The potential to change so much in the Lylat System. But also dangerous, if put in certain conditions."

"H—how does the detector exam w-work?" Slippy stammered out, "I—I've been looking at cell samples from the creatures since we got here."

"You must be Slippy Toad," Saru smiled broadly, "I'm a great admirer of your father's work. If you've been looking at samples, you know the nanites infiltrate host cells, making them rather difficult to detect even through microscopic examination."

"Do," Slippy choked, catching his breath and continuing, "Do you use the cell density factor?"

Saru shook his head.

"You can't really depend on that until the nanites have taken over most of the cells of an organism, and it's not reliable for every species. Avians and reptilians and equines are just some examples of species with cellular densities that are unique, within a few zeptograms, to each individual. My approach uses the determination that the nanites move primarily through the blood to spread throughout a person's system. I take a blood sample and subject it to a radioactive isotope embedded in a carbon nanotube matrix, where a filter preferentially ionizes synthetic molecules like the nanites..."

As Saru continued to elaborate on his test to Slippy, Barker came over to Fox and gestured towards the EE-40 in the holster on his hip.

"It doesn't really leave my side," Fox lied.

"It'll have to this time," Barker said, "No exceptions."

"Here," Fox said, drawing the pistol and pressing a button near the grip to eject the gas magazine. He handed it over to Barker.

"Acceptable?" he inquired. Barker nodded, and Fox slipped the pistol back into the holster as his tail gave off a sly twitch.

"Say, are you alright?" Fox heard Saru inquire, and he turned around to see Slippy begin to shake once again. Krystal shot him a glance as her bottlebrush tail went rigid.

"He's just stressed. Shell-shocked," Fox covered, his voice stern, "We all are, after what we've seen out there."

"Of course," Saru nodded, "I've tried to be positive, hoping I can help maintain some sense of hope around here. It's difficult. Most of these people have seen friends die, horrible things that no one should see. They've had to make difficult choices."

"We really should get them to quarantine," Barker muttered.

"Of course, where is my mind?" Saru agreed, "Let's go."

As they began walking, Fox finally got the chance to look around at the mess hall complex. As he'd noted before, it was definitely a much more bright and open, more amicable space to habitation than he'd ever before seen on the _Starghast_. The metal walls had a bright polished sheen that reflected light rather than soak it up like the drab stony bulkheads that he'd seen on the rest of the ship, and the glowpanels shone more luminous, seeming to banish shadows rather than create them. The ceilings were still quite low, but not uncharacteristic of starship design that Fox was used to. He still could not spot a single viewport to the outside, though. The main space they were in appeared similar to a shopping center food court, or at least it had started out that way. Most of the long dining tables had been removed from the floor, and in their place there were several rows of collapsable emergency cots, separated into makeshift cubicles by wire mesh dividers and sheets held up by suspended lengths of cord. At one end of the room was a sunken alcove with a long line of food production and storage equipment including industrial conservators, arc stoves and nutrient paste dispensers, and at the other end the pair of heavy blast doors that they'd seen on the holoscreens earlier in the security center. At the adjacent end of the room was a strip of rooms and offices lining the wall, with rhombus-shaped windows looking into each and a square corridor at both ends leading into the depths. Scattered around were individuals of various species, all wearing some form of uniform with the profile of the ship on their shoulders, all looking scared and somewhat starved. As they passed by, almost all of them regarded Fox with glances of terror, suspicion, even outright malice. A few still held on to makeshift spears and clubs.

"So... how many made it in here?" Alice inquired, staring down a bulldog holding a durasteel pipe that leered as she walked past.

"The first count was seventy three," Barker replied, leading them around the perimeter of the cot-cubicles, "But that was three weeks ago. We lost people to injuries, a few transformed on us and took others with them before we could put them down. Some committed suicide. Now it's more like forty seven."

"Forty seven," Krystal murmured, "Out of four hundred fifty..."

"But just because it's forty seven alive doesn't mean we're united," Barker sighed as they walked past an alcove made from several cubicles united to form an open area, where the borzoi female called Dorothea stood on top of a cot. She held a brown hardcover book copy of the Lylatian Tome in her hand, and Fox could hear her addressing a gathered crowd of people sitting and standing around her:

"For too long we have wallowed in sin, _mocking _the gifts given to us by the God Lyla. We speak of faith as if we can _choose_ to believe in the Mother of Stars, tempting Her judgment with our acceptance of _sin_ and _depravity. _Our proud, avaricious reach to conquer the stars and go beyond the worlds She has marked as ours. Our tolerance of the brutish, plotting ape, the violent wolf, the drug addict. The alien. The soldier of fortune, the homosexual, and the deviants that lie with those not of their own kind, the splicers that would endeavor to beget an abomination before Lyla's sacred natural laws! Enough is enough and now we will pay the price in blood and terror. We have seen the alien plague rise from the grave, just as it is foretold in Judgments. The Dragon of betrayal, Kalimo, has come to this ship, infesting the faithful, consuming their souls, twisting our flesh as he twists his own to forge an army of the damned..."

They all grimaced as they passed, Fox trading glowers with the borzoi from across the room.

"You talking about the holy-roller bitch over there?" Alice asked, loudly so that the proselytizing borzoi could hear. Fox asked who she was, quieter.

"Her name's Dorothea Winters," Barker grumbled, "Used to work in the telemetry office for the landing bay. Started making problems not too long after we built the barricades. She's got a hard-on for the good book if you haven't noticed."

"Fear is the relinquishment of logic. Some people turn to magical thinking in the face of it," Saru sighed.

"Her following isn't that strong is it?" Krystal asked.

"Not at first," Barker replied, "When people died in here though, others started listening. She was gathering followers, people that listen to her. I'm trying to keep order and _sanity _here, but everyone's a lot more afraid of what's outside than they are of anyone in here. After a month in here, listening to her go on like that, people start believing in it."

"Could she take control?" Alice said.

"There's about twenty six people that have bought what she's selling, hook line and sinker," Barker grunted, "I've got sixteen here that I know I can count on, most of them senior ship's personnel or security. Not counting the weapons you brought, we've got the only three working blaster rifles and the only incinerator, and those are the reasons she isn't calling the shots right now."

Fox felt suddenly colder at the news. He swallowed and licked the roof of his parched mouth, wishing more and more by the second for a moment alone to get on the comlink with Peppy.

"We're here now. We'll get everyone out before anyone else is hurt," Fox promised.

"I hope you're as good as you think you are," Barker opined, the yellow feathers over his neck ruffling and then settling back down, "Look Doc, you're going to have to take them the rest of the way. I've got stuff to take care of."

"Of course, Kurt," Saru replied as Barker nodded at them and took off. By now they were right at the entrance to the corridors past the strip of offices at the end of the main mess hall room. Fox watched Barker leave amongst the makeshift cubicles, then looked back at Doctor Saru. He was still smiling softly.

"Barker is definitely the pessimist here," the ape informed them, "I'm of the mind that the surviving crew isn't stupid or desperate enough to listen to her religious nonsense. They're scared, and people do foolish things when that happens, but most of the crew was evaluated for long-term space habitation and scientific dedication. They're good, rational people, and they'll start remembering that. Especially now that you're here. Once we clear you from quarantine I'm sure things will start looking up. Everyone knows you saved all of Lylat from the Aparoids before. It can't be harder to save this ship."

Saru led them down the corridor, past a series of doors with rhombus-shaped windows, under the almost harsh white light of glowpanels in the ceiling.

"These are part of the medical bay and lab annexes of the complex," Saru explained, "I've been able to work on the detection exam here as well as continue study of the nanites to a reasonable degree, considering the circumstances."

Fox couldn't decide if Saru was a case of extraordinary dedication or denial, continuing to experiment on the organisms that had killed hundreds of his shipmates and trapped him in space for a month with little hope of rescue. Either way, the ape's pleasant smile was beginning to make his fur bristle uncomfortably.

Something caught his eye through the window in one of the doors, and Fox peered inside to see rows of cots with a handful of bedridden individuals hooked up to IV bags. As he craned his head to get a better look around the room through the tiny window, he realized that Doctor Saru was right next to him, smiling that pleasant smile. Fox forced a smile of his own, looking over the simian's leathery face, his large brown eyes with flecks of gold and green. He tried to banish whatever it was that reminded him of Andross when he looked at it.

"Its just part of our med bay," Saru explained, tilting his head towards the window, "A few of our group came down with a case of Mellorak syndrome. Requires bed rest, isolation, antibiotics...nothing sinister."

The way the chimp ended the sentence, the fact that he chose to add those last two words and the way his mouth curled into an even deeper smile as he did, made Fox feel cold again. This time no amount of effort could summon a smile in return. All of his allies were hidden behind the frame of the thick-bodied primate, and the illusion that Fox was alone in this frigid hallway with Saru made him very uneasy. He wanted to say something, just to break the eerie silence, when someone else beat him to it.

"Inside. They grow inside. They grow inside from the inside...out..." a deep, guttural voice murmured, echoing up the corridor at them. Saru's smile dropped and he turned, Fox following his gaze, past Alice and Krystal and Slippy who were all staring at a rather frumpy, yellowish reptilian with a prominent forehead ridge, shuffling up the corridor in a dirty gray research uniform.

"Ohhh..." Saru moaned gently, exhibiting a frown for the first time.

"You can't tell when it takes over," the reptilian said, "Can't tell when you're not who you are. She screams when my eyes are closed. She's dead but she's not dead. Dead but _un_dead—"

"Gary," Saru said firmly, walking over to the reptilian, "Gary, what are you doing back here?"

Gary's bloodshot eyes swelled and his flabby tail coiled at the sight of the chimpanzee. His arms began to quiver.

"I—I—I got lost," the chameleon stammered, "I thought I heard her. I wanted to find her."

"She's not here, Gary," Saru replied, putting a hand on the reptilian's shoulder, "You know you're not supposed to be back here."

"I—I... heard her..."

"I know, Gary. Go get some sleep. I promise it'll be better when you wake up."

"No. Can't sleep. She's screaming there. Never sleep again. They don't sleep."

"Do it for me, Gary. And stay with the others, please," Saru intoned, his voice growing serious.

"I—I..."

"Gary. Now, please."

The chameleon slowly gave a trembling nod, then shuffled down the corridor towards the main mess hall room.

"She's dead but she's not dead," Gary muttered as he drew further away, "Dead but not dead. What is dead can never die. That's what they said to her inside. What is dead can never die..."

They all looked to Saru, who formed the exact same pleasant smile.

"And you let _him _walk around?" Alice muttered.

"Gary Childs," Saru explained with a touch of pity in his reedy voice, "Part of the research team. A college friend of his was on the ship along with him. I think he was planning to propose to her. When the incident happened, she was infected. He saw her...change. Such a thing would trouble anyone."

"You never thought _he_ might be infected?" Fox inquired, raising a furry white eyebrow.

"He hasn't been the same, but he's been with us without incident for twenty seven days," Saru shrugged, "We let him do as he likes, just so long as he stays in sight. Come on now, I'll need to hold you in this room down here."

Saru beckoned them to follow further down the hall, and Fox glanced over his shoulder one more time at the shape of the departing chameleon before joining the primate at a closed door with a rhombus-shaped window. He slid a keycard through a scanner next to the door and it unlocked with a heavy snap, then he pulled the door open for the four of them.

They filed into a colorless medical examination room with harsh white lights blazing down from the ceiling. The cabinets lining the walls were buffed, polished steel and the examination table looked as if it hadn't been touched since it was installed. Several chairs were lined up against the bare end of the wall between a scale and a stainless steel hand sink.

Fox turned to face Saru, standing in the doorway.

"You'll be in here for the time being," the primate explained, "The detection exam is almost ready, I just need to fire up the centrifuge and run a few control tests. Your timing really couldn't have been better, you shouldn't be in here for more than an hour or so. I'll send for the first of you shortly, in the mean time you can decide who gets tested first. Any questions?"

Slippy quietly plopped into a chair against the wall, his left hand shoved as far as it could go into his jacket pocket. Fox breathed in and took a risk.

"Are there any first aid supplies in here?" Fox inquired, "Bandages, disinfectant, anything like that?"

Saru's jaw tightened just a bit and he leaned against the door frame. Something changed in the ape's eyes, and he could feel a wave of cold, tight tension broadcast from Krystal's mind.

"Of course, it's a med-bay," Saru nodded, his words coming out slow and dull, "You should find everything you'd need in those cabinets. Are one of you injured?"

Slippy looked up from the chair, his green skin glistening with fresh sweat. Saru was looking right at him, his arms crossed, and he wasn't smiling anymore.

"Slippy had an accident in the maintenance ducts," Fox shrugged, hoping that Saru couldn't hear his heart thumping, "Sliced his hand on a piece of grating that we had to break through."

"Is that so?" Saru remarked, "You sure he wasn't bitten?"

How could the ape _not _hear Fox's heartbeat now? It was the loudest sound in the room, and it throbbed in his ears. Fox's tail was stiff in the narrowed gaze of the simian doctor. His hands unconsciously formed slow, tight fists.

"I'm sure," Fox answered, his voice a bit louder and higher than usual, "We're not foolish. Slippy just got clumsy in the ducts, didn't you Slip? Those butterfingers of yours are always getting you in trouble."

"Yuh—y—yeah," Slippy stammered out, swallowing and forcing an awkward smile. The amphibian was seconds away from hysteria. "St—still need to learn how to mind my surroundings," he added quietly.

Saru looked calmly back at Fox. The chimp's jaw moved around as he licked the inside of his mouth.

"Are you sure he's alright?" Saru asked again, quieter.

He had to know, Fox thought. The ape was smart. He wasn't moving or saying anything, but he had to know. Everything in Fox's gut told him the ape knew.

"You're a doctor," Fox muttered, "Check him out if you want; see for yourself."

A lightning-strike of sick dread traveled from Krystal's mind, up Fox's tail and into his brain, and the only reaction on his face was a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. He could only hope the faces of his friends behind him were as reserved.

Saru glanced at Slippy, then returned his focus to Fox. There were a few more moments of silence from the primate, and his large brown eyes were narrowed in focus. Then he blinked.

"That won't be necessary," Saru grunted, "I can examine him when we test for nanites. Make yourselves comfortable until then. You'll find what you need in the cabinets."

With that, the ape nodded at them and closed the door, disappearing from the frame of the rhombus-shaped window as the lock snapped shut.

Fox stumbled a half-step backwards as he blew a breath outward, and Slippy began to quietly sob in his seat. Krystal gripped both sides of the hand sink and looked into the drain as if she was feeling sick. Alice shook her head angrily.

"Do you have any first aid supplies?!" she snapped, "Of course they do; look around it's a doctor's office!"

"We need to change his dressing _before _he gets tested," Fox replied, "Get it cleaned up so it looks less suspicious."

"Everything is suspicious here," the cheetah growled, "Everyone's on edge enough without you drawing attention. We're locked in a room, without weapons, and they've got reason to suspect us. Nice going, hero."

"We've got one weapon," Fox muttered, opening a pouch on his Team StarFox jacket and withdrawing a spare gas magazine for his EE-40 blaster. With the high capacity of modern gas magazines, few people carried a spare, and even fewer would think to search for it when Fox willingly surrendered the one already loaded into his pistol. He'd wagered on this when he handed it over to Barker. Fox slapped the gas magazine into the hand grip of his EE-40 and the gun let out a tiny whine indicating it was ready to fire.

"Oh, well now I feel better," Alice huffed.

"Mind shutting up if you're not going to do something useful?" Fox retorted, holstering the blaster and making his way to the cabinets, opening them up and searching for better supplies to treat Slippy's wound. Krystal wordlessly joined him in his search as Alice rolled her eyes and took a seat on the examination table. Slippy was sniffling and crying, breathing heavily as they found containers of provitate and synthflesh, along with tweezers and disinfectant spray. Alice was trying not to look at him as Fox knelt down next to Slippy with sterilized gloves on his hands.

"Come on, let's see it," Fox implored him, and Slippy tried to catch his breath through the sniffles.

"It's starting to itch," Slippy whimpered, "And it still hurts. I don't want to look at it, I don't want you to touch it."

"I'm wearing gloves, I'll be fine," Fox said, "You don't have to look at it if you don't want to."

Slippy's mouth twisted in a scowl of despair and he squeezed his eyes shut as he pulled out his left hand. It was still covered in a glove, but Fox could see dark blood stains around the wrist and the veins in his arm were throbbing in a slightly darker shade from the surrounding green skin. He carefully slipped the glove off, fingertip by fingertip, until it came away in his hand. Slippy let out a mewl of pain as a strip of synthflesh was torn loose from the skin by the glove's removal. Fox tried not to make a sound in reaction. Slippy's hand was swollen, especially around the ripped flesh over his knuckles. Fox could still make out where individual teeth had sunken in. The synthflesh bandage had been poorly applied, or something about the wound was rejecting the nanocells in the bandage, as it hung loose and translucent over Slippy's wound. So much dark red was drying on his friend's hand, and it had a pungent stink to it.

Fox cleared his throat and asked Krystal for the tweezers.

She handed him a pair and he carefully tugged away at the synthflesh bandage, watching it peel away from the wound with a coating of puss. Slippy choked out a hissing, pained breath, his eyes still held closed.

"You're being very brave, Slippy," Krystal whispered in a comforting tone.

Fox carefully tossed the dirty synthflesh bandage into the sink. Immediately he noticed blood oozing from Slippy's wound. Krystal handed him a gauze sponge and disinfectant spray.

Fox dabbed away at the blood, then spritzed the wound with disinfectant. Slippy cringed and chuckled humorlessly.

"What's the point of this?" the amphibian mumbled, "It won't stop it. They're already inside me."

"It'll help until we can destroy the Source," Fox remarked, brushing the wound one more time.

"That's a big if. I guess if you can't, there's always your blaster..."

"It won't come to that."

"Who are we kidding?" Slippy whispered, "If I don't change first, those people out there will kill me. It would be easier if we just ended it."

Krystal's lips pursed and she looked into the wall. Fox remembered a moment not too long ago when similar words had come from the vixen's mouth.

"We're not about taking the easy way out, remember?" Fox murmured.

"Screw it," Slippy sobbed, tears dribbling out of the corners of his eyes, "Give me the gun, I'll do it. Right now. Just give me the gun... please..."

"Slippy I need you to be quiet and hang in there. I'm almost done," Fox said, opening a jar of provitate and smearing a few fingertips of the ivory salve around the wound.

"I don't want to turn into one of them. Not one of them. Not like them."

"You won't."

Krystal opened another synthflesh bandage and handed it to Fox, who carefully began to smooth it over the top of Slippy's hand.

"Yes I will," Slippy bleated, "You'll run out of time and I'll change and you'll have to do it. Or they'll find out and kill me first."

"Have some faith," Fox whispered, "In me. In us. You're not in this alone."

Slippy's eyes opened up and he looked down at Fox as he finished applying the bandage. Fox met his gaze.

"We're going to die in here. One way or another, I know it's coming."

Fox couldn't think of anything inspiring to say. He just rested a hand on Slippy's knee and squeezed slightly before rising to his feet and stripping the gloves off his hands. He carefully tossed the gloves into the sink along with the other supplies as Slippy examined his hand. The dressing looked better, cleaner, but the wound was still swollen and dark under the translucent synthflesh bandage. He carefully worked the black glove over his left hand.

"Fox," Krystal said, cocking her head toward a cabinet. He followed the vixen over, watching her blue bottlebrush tail sway against her gray armor suit.

"I found these," she whispered, opening the cabinet and producing a pair of pistol-like hypodermic jet injector guns and a pair of little glass vials filled with a clear, bright blue liquid. Fox read the label on the vials, and felt a ghostly tingle spread through his body, down his spine. It both warmed and chilled Fox, and he felt like he could feel the tips of every hair growing out of his skin. Krystal's aqua eyes nearly glowed. Her scent was in his nose, like fresh forest rain.

_Zydrate? _Fox thought, knowing Krystal would hear.

The vixen nodded.

_Use it to tranquilize Slippy if we need to. Or someone else... _Krystal's voice echoed in his brain.

The tingle disappeared and Fox became acutely aware of Alice watching the two of them. Fox understood and took one of the injector guns from Krystal, inserting the Zydrate vial into the gun like a battery. He slipped the injector gun into the same pouch on his jacket that he'd hidden his gas magazine in. As Krystal hid her injector gun in a compartment in her armor, Fox turned and walked around the examination table, ignoring the scrutinizing gazes that Alice shot him through the corner of her eyes.

He put a hand to the microphone sticking out of his headset and said, "Peppy."

There was a crackle over the comlink before a blunt urban voice replied, "Ya' got Falco."

"What's the situation?"

"Well, there's your good news an' your bad news," Falco came back, "Not sure which ya' wanna hear first."

"We've got our own problems here," Fox said, "We found the mess hall-"

"Yeah, I can still see ya, remember?" Falco interjected, "What's up with Slippy?"

"We ran into something in the maintenance ducts. He was bitten."

Slippy hugged himself and looked at the floor, breathing heavily.

"Shit," Falco cursed, "How's he holdin' up?"

"We need to work fast. Keep going with the plan. You'll cut through the hull and ferry people back to the _Great Fox_. Slippy needs to be on the first trip. We'll freeze him in a stasis chamber in the med-bay. Stop the infection from spreading until we can kill the Source. Tell me the good news."

"We got the shuttle back," Falco answered, "Had ta' fight a few of 'em off tha' hull, but it's in the hangar now."

"What's the bad?"

"We had a...breach," Falco returned slowly, "One of the things got inside _Great Fox. _Made its way to the bridge 'n tried ta' eat Peppy."

"Is he alright?" Fox petitioned urgently.

"I think so," the avian came back over the comm, "We killed it together in here. Peppy might've been exposed."

"And I say I _wasn't_," Peppy's voice piped up, joining in.

"I'm gonna be watchin' him, I'm not taking any chances after what you've seen over there."

"I gave Falco command just to be on the safe side, but I'm fine Fox, I really am," Peppy added, "We're working on how we'll re-seal the hull after cutting into it the first time-"

"Did you burn it?" Krystal interrupted, her voice heavy.

"What?" Falco inquired, confused. Something sank in Fox's stomach.

"The thing that attacked you, did you burn it?" Fox demanded.

"Nah, I told ya we killed it; it's dead here on tha' floor-"

"FALCO! They're not dead until you burn them! You have to burn them!" Fox yelled into the microphone.

"Whaddaya talkin' about, it's—oh shit!" Falco chattered over the comlink, "Shit! Shit!"

"Falco!" Fox barked, his green eyes swollen, "Falco!"

* * *

Falco tumbled out of his chair, his beak flying open in a silent scream as the body of the rabbit-creature pulsated on the floor. Fleshy, purple-veined pink tendrils oozing with mucus had grown out of the corpse, wrapping around the base of the command chair and rooting into the ventilation housing for the nearby radar control console with a wet slurping sound. Falco cursed again and brought up his incinerator as Peppy and ROB leapt out of their seats. He flinched, tried not to get too close to Peppy, and hesitated.

"Burn it!" Peppy shouted, "Kill the fuckin' thing!"

Falco brought the flamethrower to bear on the creature, pulling the trigger and producing an aborted burst of flame from the end. There was an empty click and the read out screen flashed red with an error message.

"It's jammed!" Falco snapped, slapping the incinerator and twisting at the fuel canister. The tendrils from the body pulsed and surged deeper into the radar console's housing.

"**Foreign code detected**," ROB announced, "**Network security alert**."

"It's taking over the computer!" Peppy snapped, picking up a vibro-axe out of the cart of weapons near the forward control consoles and charging as ROB connected to his USC socket and began typing furiously into the computer console.

Peppy barked out and swung the buzzing axe down on the tendrils, slicing them apart with a gooey thump and watching them recoil with a squeak. He hammered away at the compromised radar control console, bashing into the housing with loud bangs and bursts of sparks. Falco snarled and twisted at the fuel canister on the incinerator, slapping the side of the weapon. The read out stopped flashing red. He looked up and saw the tendrils slithering for Peppy's heel as he brought the axe up for another swing.

"Get back!" Falco snapped, bringing up the incinerator. Peppy slid out of the way and a roaring burst of flames swept out of the weapon, enveloping the body of the creature and the tendrils growing out of it. A high, squealing hiss erupted from the burning body and it writhed and convulsed, cracking and twisting as it struggled to transform into something fireproof. Heat smothered Falco's face and toasted his beak as black smoke stained the bridge's white ceiling and stung his eyes. The flames spread to the command chair and began to char the leather, but Falco didn't move to grab the fire extinguisher on the wall until the screaming stopped.

A jet of white chemical gas burst out of the red canister in Falco's hand, swirling into the flames and extinguishing them. The gas cleared and the blackened body of the creature did not move, and Peppy gave Falco a grateful nod before he scrambled over to the forward control console.

"Is it still hacking the system?!" Peppy demanded.

"**Affirmative**," ROB answered, "**Nanites are manipulating system security protocols, infiltrating network gateways. StarFox database compromised. Navigational systems compromised. Radar compromised. Tertiary firewall breach. Secondary firewall breach. Primary firewall...**"

The android glanced at several readouts on the screen in front of him. Then he looked over at Peppy.

"**All systems of **_**Great Fox **_**will be compromised in a matter of moments. Countermeasures failing. Network security proving untenable. Propose alternative**," ROB said.

"What can you do?" Peppy asked.

"**Integrate this unit with software firewalls and configure as an improvised proxy server**," ROB proposed, "**Draw malicious code and nanites into this system. Isolate. Amputate. Ensure survival of ship and StarFox Team**."

There was barely time to argue, but the word "amputate" stuck out in Peppy's mind. Falco was looking back and forth between the android and the rabbit, unable to understand, but Peppy did.

"It would corrupt your whole system," Peppy said quietly, "Fry your processor."

"**A robot may not harm those in its charge or, through inaction, allow it's charges to come to harm**," was ROB's only response. The android's actuated fingers squeaked as he typed in a flurry of new orders.

Peppy's ears drooped limply, his bottom jaw loosened. He couldn't quite explain why, but ROB was taking a bolt for all of them. Knowing the outcome. Knowing it meant his destruction. Through all the years, ROB had been there, and Peppy often forgot how essential he was. He was more than just a robot.

The question of why, how ROB could sacrifice himself so easily for them was right on his tongue, but he just couldn't put it in words.

"What about you?" was all he could manage, gripping onto ROB's pale metal arm. The android paused for a moment and looked at him, bottom jaw actuating as he spoke.

"**It is not an essential resource**."

The glowpanels in the bridge ceiling flickered and a low hum echoed throughout the ship. Peppy locked eyes with Falco, and the feathers on the back of the avian's head ruffled and smoothed down limply. He seemed to understand.

"**It must be now**," ROB informed them, entering his last orders into the console, "**Integrating processor software. Configuring firewall source code. Foreign activity identified. Diverting. Isolating**."

Peppy's chest felt empty, unable to turn away or even react. Part of him wanted to thank ROB, for all he'd done, for his sacrifice. Would it mean anything to the droid?

The robot's arms trembled. The glowpanels flickered again. A holographic screen appeared in front of the command chair informing them that a data packet was being uploaded to their computer.

ROB's head twitched slightly. Peppy let out a pained breath and drew his pistol out of the holster.

"**Final sequence**," ROB-64 reported, his voice coming out uneven and at an odd octave, "**Foreign code trans—zzz—lated. Alert. Peppy. Alert. Danger. It's him. They are him. Its—Itssshhh-Error. End of line. End of liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-**"

ROB-64 trembled and turned to him, and Peppy saw the photoreceptor strip in the android's face change from it's familiar red to a bright purple. A dark growl of garbled static issued from his vocabulator and the android's arms moved slowly towards his neck. Peppy raised the blaster pistol.

"I'm sorry, ROB," Peppy said, shutting his eyes so he wouldn't have to watch himself do it.

He pulled the trigger and there was a sound of thunder.


	8. The Damned

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Much quicker update than last time, right? Well, this chapter is a bit on the short side, maybe because it takes a turn that you're not expecting. Again, though I highly encourage you to review the chapter and send me your thoughts (they help motivate me to write by showing me people care) I'd ask you to keep your reviews spoiler-free for the sake of new readers. For frank thoughts on plot twists, feel free to PM me. This chapter was very nearly called "Sinnerman", after the classic gospel song by Nina Simone. Try youtubing it after you're done with this section, I feel it just fits the tone. Hope you guys are as excited as I am for what's to come. Our characters are really passing the point of no return here- TU**

* * *

**-The Damned-**

"Falco!" Fox snapped once more, his tail stiff with dread, "Peppy! ROB! Someone tell me what's going on!"

Over the comlink he could hear muffled shouts and noises, then Fox's headset squealed with garbled static. He stood quietly, feet planted in place. He watched Krystal and Slippy watch him as their headsets hissed with interference. Even Alice's face was limp and weary, violet eyes glazed with dread as they waited in silence for the hissing to stop, for something else to come over the comm.

Minutes passed.

Fox breathed slowly. Krystal's jaw tightened as Slippy rocked nervously in his chair. The light of the glowpanels burned down so bright it hurt to look up. The sinking, cavernous feeling in Fox's chest expanded until he felt hollow. His mouth was dry.

A click and a sharp whine came the comlink, then Fox heard a hoarse voice, low and heavy, "Fox are you there?"

Fox's heart started beating.

"Peppy? Peppy, what happened?" Fox started, his tail drooping slightly.

"We were so goddamn stupid," Peppy grunted, "Falco and I were too busy watching each other we didn't bother watching the thing on the floor. It grew into a computer console. Tried to assimilate the _Great Fox_'s network."

"Lyla," Fox whispered, as Slippy's head came up with a despairing look.

"Some systems were compromised. Database, navigation, radar. I'm still trying to bring them back online," Peppy returned, "We managed to save the rest of the ship, but it cost us a lot. We lost ROB."

"What?" Fox gasped.

"He used himself as a proxy server to quarantine the nanites inside his processor," Peppy said, "Told us it was the only way. I had to shoot him to make sure the nanites didn't spread. Hes... he's gone."

"But...he's been damaged before. Had his head chopped off last time," Fox argued weakly.

"Fox, they _assimilated _him. Took over his processor core and infected his system. It's not something we can fix. At least not easily," Peppy murmured, "...I don' t know what we can do. Whether or not we can restore him, ROB won't be back anytime tonight. Which means our job just got harder. We can't run the ship with just the two of us and no operator. I don't know how to make the plan work now."

Fox's jaw tightened and his right hand made a fist. He swallowed and closed his eyes. Slippy was behind him, weeping into his own lap, whispering ROB's name and shaking his head.

"What options do we have?" Fox inquired, keeping his voice steady.

"I'm working on it," Peppy replied, "Before they took him over completely, ROB uploaded some sort of data packet to the computer. I think he might've had momentary access to the systems on the _Starghast_, maybe he found something we can use. It's scrambled though, a lot of junk code mixed in. I'm trying to make sense of it. There's another thing."

"More?"

"He tried to warn me," Peppy said darkly, "Just before the end. It's like he recognized something about the nanites we didn't know about. He said 'It's him. They are him.' That mean anything to you?"

Fox struggled to find an answer. He thought back on all the horrors he'd experienced, tonight and during the Aparoid Invasion, and nothing brought significance to the words. It made no more sense to him than WELCOME HOME FOX written on the walls did. It only served to compound the heavy feeling of stony dread in Fox's body, weighing him down, coaxing him into surrender.

"No," Fox replied, "I don't know."

"Falco and I are doing what we can," Peppy said, "We'll get you out of there, whatever it takes. I'll let you know what I find in the data packet and we'll come up with some ways to extract you that work around needing ROB. Just hang in there."

"We're trying," Fox murmured, "Fox out."

He breathed, trying not to think about ROB, about how much slimmer their chances of survival were without him. Fox struggled to put it out of his mind even as Slippy sobbed the android's name into his lap.

Alice was holding herself, looking off into a corner of the room, uncomfortably perched on the examination table. Krystal had her back against the wall, her eyes closed and her face turned towards the ceiling, the cobalt hair on her head looking almost white in the harsh light of the glowpanels. Fox approached her and put a hand on the gray armor shoulder plating. She exhaled and he felt her relax.

"What's the Source doing?"

Krystal shivered, her mouth curling downwards.

"Something's changed," the vixen remarked quietly, "Whatever was distracting it, whatever it wanted before, it's has it. It knows I'm listening. It wants _us_ now, it wants everyone."

Her eyes opened and she looked at Fox, her bottom jaw trembling. Fox wanted to hold her, do something to make it go away. But he felt powerless. Krystal got her composure after a moment.

The door lock snapped open loudly like a blaster shot and the four of them jolted, facing the door as a slender otter in a blue and black uniform like Alice's walked in with a smile. Alice let out a small sound and slid off the examination table, unable to pull her stare away from the enhydra. Her back to Fox, he could see the muscles along her spine go rigid and her feline tail arch stiffly upwards. She seemed to take special care that the examination table was between herself and the otter.

"Adelaide," the otter grinned, his green eyes moist with relief.

"...Lambert?" Alice remarked in an astonished tone, "How?"

Fox and Krystal each joined Alice's side, and Fox could see Alice's incisors in her slackly open mouth. He looked over at the otter. The name Lambert sounded familiar, he thought Alice may have mentioned it earlier but he couldn't be positive. A casually dropped name didn't stand out too well among the things Fox had encountered tonight. He saw a name badge with the label MILLS on his chest, and the otter spread his arms slightly as he took a few more steps into the examination room.

"I thought I saw one of the crew trying to hide while we were running," Lambert replied, "I went after them. Got turned around in the dark, and I couldn't find you. I heard them coming, so I hid in a utility closet. Just kept moving from hiding place to hiding place until I made it here. Blind luck, that's the only way to explain it."

The otter was beaming warmly, his thick tail swaying behind him. Alice's jaw was slack for a few more moments, then she slowly closed her mouth as if everything was fine. But her eyes were still wide and her tail remained arched.

"I'm glad you made it here," Lambert smiled, extending his hand.

Alice looked down at it with dread, and then slowly reached towards it, straightening her face as she did. They slowly clasped fingers and shook hands.

"It's…good to see you," Alice said, barely above a whisper.

Lambert withdrew his hand, looking around at Fox and Krystal and Slippy, introducing himself as "Lambert Mills, security lieutenant."

Fox gave the otter a nod and Lambert glanced back at Alice before addressing them all.

"Doctor Saru sent me to fetch one of you," Lambert explained, "His test is ready for the first subject. Any volunteers?"

Fox had his mouth open to speak up, but a sudden yip out of Krystal drew Lambert's attention.

"I guess you're up?" the otter smiled, "Let's go then."

Lambert beckoned towards Krystal and the blue vixen cast a bayonet-sharp glare at Alice, but she still walked over to join the otter. Krystal gave a look over her shoulder as Lambert escorted her out of the room and closed the door. Fox glanced over at Alice, and he heard Slippy inquire, "So why'd you yank her tail like that?"

"Because I needed a word in private," Alice answered, turning to face Fox.

"What's up?" Fox asked.

"The obvious thing wrong with this picture," Alice returned, "There's no way Lambert could've made it here alive. We were on the other side of the ship from here when he disappeared, and it wasn't like we were separated. Something _grabbed _him. That's _not _Lambert anymore, it can't be."

"Are you sure? And you just sent _Krystal _with him instead?" Fox growled.

"Oh Lyla's cunt I'm not getting into this," Alice snapped, "Something's wrong here. With this whole place. You can _feel _it, right? Someone in the complex is infected. They said they already had some cases of infected in here. There's no way they could've gotten rid of all of them. No way of knowing, at least."

Fox paused and thought, then looked back at the cheetah.

"You're right. I was thinking it might be that guy we saw out there. Childs. You said some of them heard voices in their head before they changed? He's hearing voices," Fox added.

Behind the conversation, there was still the question of whether or not Alice was who she said she was. If she was infected. Fox still had no way of knowing. He'd been ready to put it aside for now... until Alice had yanked Krystal's tail, ensuring that she wasn't the first test subject. Her actions could just as easily be misdirection as they could be an effort to root out the infection.

As he looked in her violet eyes, he still wasn't sure.

"Hey, in all this, at least there's one you _know _has it..." Slippy groaned, "What are you going to do when they take me in and find the bite? What do you think _they're _going to do?"

"He's got a point," Alice remarked, "What are you going to do?"

"I wonder if they'll burn me..." Slippy murmured to himself.

"I'll figure something out," Fox replied, to both Slippy and Alice, "Right now, I know Slippy is still Slippy. That's what matters."

"You're putting your life at risk just being around him," Alice came back.

"It's my job to risk my life."

"Then what about mine? What about all the lives you took responsibility for? Is it your job to risk all of ours too, for one person, because he's your _friend-_"

"I'm not burninghim," Fox snarled.

"I never said burn him," the cheetah snipped, "But you need to come up with something or cut your losses and start thinking of the greater good."

"Don't tell me how to lead."

"Then start leading. Make a plan. Act," Alice retorted, "And you better do it fast, you and I are the only things between him and that test, and it won't take long."

Fox exhaled, turned and put both hands on the examination table.

"You think they'll have mercy on him, because he's from StarFox and he's some kind of hero?" Alice hissed in his ear, "These people are ready to tear each other apart. They'll sacrifice him with a smile if they think it makes them safer."

"Throw out an idea or shut up and let me think," Fox snapped, and Alice rolled her eyes and stepped away. Fox's snout turned down towards the table and his arms tensed.

He considered meditating while he had the time, but doubted his ability to clear his mind of all the shadows. The clinical cold of the examination room stabbed through his fur and the light of the glowpanels shone through his closed eyelids. His nails dug lightly into the table and he could hear Slippy whimpering to the side, Alice slowly pacing back and forth. Fox listened to her steps as he thought, and was careful to be mindful if she got too close.

He couldn't be sure how long his eyes were closed when the lock snapped open loudly. The glowpanels stung his eyes for a moment as his vision adjusted, and Lambert Mills swung the door open with a soft smile broadening his furry cheeks. Fox saw Krystal's face just over Lambert's shoulder, nodding at him as she stood against the corridor wall outside.

"Your friend passed," the enhydra reported, his thick tail wafting from left to right, "No issues with the test. Who's next?"

"Let's get this over with," Alice mumbled, and Fox's ears twitched as she made her way around the exam table. He hadn't expected her to volunteer before him.

"We'll have you back to work soon enough, Ploughman," Lambert said, leading her out the door and reaching out to put a friendly arm around her shoulder. Just as they made it through the doorway, Alice took an extra step forward to avoid Lambert's touch, then the door smacked shut behind them, the lock thudding into place. Framed in the rhombus window of the door was Krystal, who cautiously looked down the hall before making her way up to it. Her eyes locked on to Fox and he could feel the electric tingle as her mind touched his.

_They wouldn't let me in_, Krystal whispered in his head, _Quarantine rules, I'm supposed to be in the mess hall with the others. There isn't long before they know I'm gone, I tend to stick out. How is Slippy?_

Fox glanced over to the amphibian, sweating to the point his green skin had a bright sheen, arms wrapped limply around his knees and staring at the floor.

_He's fading. We need to do something soon_, Fox returned, _I didn't want to leave him alone with Alice._

Krystal's head tilted to the side.

_You don't trust her? _

_So far you're the only one I know for sure is you. You're the only one I can trust. _

The blue vixen smiled a bit and glanced away, and he felt a warm tingle travel up his chest.

_What are we going to do when they test him? _Krystal probed.

_One of us needs to be in the room to calm them down and explain things. Hopefully we can get Barker or Saru to work with us. Maybe they can put him in stasis. Another one of us needs to find them someone else they can test. Show them that we're trying to contain the nanites just as they are. _

Krystal's lips pursed and her eyes grew worried.

_Which survivor will you give them? Do you suspect someone? And what if they don't have a stasis pod?_

Fox breathed, leaning into the exam table.

_We rig a conservator like Alice did. There's two people they should test. The one we saw outside, Childs, and there's Lambert. Alice doesn't think he could've made it here alive. _

_I could sense the thought patterns in both of them, _Krystal remarked, _It felt like they were normal. No secrets like Alice, at least. _

Fox shook his head.

_That's no way of knowing. It's more about getting the sane ones to work with us. We can't protect Slippy from both Barker's people and Dorothea. _

Krystal nodded slowly.

_What should I do_? She inquired.

_Keep an eye on Dorothea_, Fox instructed, _If I need you at the lab to back me up with Slippy, I'll raise you on the comm. _

The vixen stepped away from the window with a parting thought of _Good luck, Fox_, then disappeared from view.

Fox slowly turned his head over to Slippy, his jaws tightening with concern. The amphibian looked lost in his own head, and Fox doubted that his friend would hear them if he offered words of encouragement. He shared the silence with him, and looked back at the door to the room.

Every door he'd encountered on the _Starghast _had been closed, most locked. Windowless, with doors shut tight, the ship seemed intent on trapping them inside, even when the doors stood between them and the horrors of the night. Fox wondered what the door to the outside, where the universe was sane, would look like, if he would ever see it.

Fox kept staring at the door until Lambert's face reappeared in the window. He breathed and glanced at Slippy as the lock snapped open loudly. His plan was flimsy at best, it depended far too much on the mercy and understanding of Saru and Barker, who might just decide incinerate Slippy where he stood.

But his back was against the wall.

And he was out of time.

The door swung open with Lambert's face sporting a slightly broader smile than before.

"And we're two for two," the enhydra smirked, "You guys have been careful."

Fox's tail perked up with surprise as he saw Alice in the corridor behind Lambert, arms crossed over her breasts and a satisfied smirk on her feline muzzle. How much time had he spent casting suspicion on her when she'd been clean all along?

Fox didn't have time to consider it, as Lambert immediately asked for another volunteer and Fox stepped forward. He gave a parting look at Slippy, meeting the amphibian's watery blue eyes and trying to send him some silent hope, to convey that he was not facing this alone. He didn't know if his friend understood. Slippy disappeared from view as Lambert led Fox into the corridor and shut the door behind. The lock snapped shut and Lambert beckoned down the hall, and Fox took notice that the otter's other hand was resting on a holstered blaster pistol at his side, despite the friendly smile on his face.

"This way, Commander," Lambert said, starting off along the corridor. Fox followed behind, seizing his chance and taking Alice by the arm, putting his muzzle up to her ear and whispering , "Find Childs."

Alice's brow furrowed and she nodded, then she looked over Fox's shoulder and frowned. Lambert was staring at them, hand wrapped more securely around the holstered blaster than before. He wasn't smiling anymore, and his brown eyes were narrowed and focused on Fox's holstered EE-40.

"You really shouldn't touch her until we've cleared you from quarantine," Lambert admonished, his thick tail curving rigidly, "And now that I mention it, Adelaide? You need to go to the mess hall with the others. Report to Barker."

Alice calmly slipped out of Fox's grip and smiled at the otter, the same calm and disconnected smile that Saru and Lambert both displayed, and Lambert seemed to relax.

"Sorry, Lambert," Alice replied, "You're right, I'll head right over. See you soon."

The cheetah slinked past Fox, then Lambert, sending the otter a demure glance as she passed, and it seemed to Fox almost like they knew something he didn't.

Lambert looked back at Fox, staring at him quietly for what felt like a long time as Alice vanished down the corridor.

"Okay," Lambert announced suddenly, "Let's go."

The otter led him down the corridor, no longer smiling, staying close to Fox's side. They didn't talk and passed no one as they traveled under the bright glowpanels, and Fox tried to tell himself that nothing was wrong. He had nothing to hide.

But he was still glad he'd put the spare gas magazine in his blaster.

They strode past a door with a rhombus-shaped window with a pale-furred ram looking out of it, and Lambert stopped at the sound of sharp tapping from inside the door. He went up to the door, glancing back at Fox for a moment, then pressed a button on a small intercom on the door frame.

"What is it, Colton?"

"I don't want to stay in here anymore, Lambert," the ram said firmly, "I want to come back out with the others. Weird things, I'm... I'm-"

"What?"

"I'm hearing weird things out here," the ram finished.

Lambert sniffed, rolling his shoulders.

"It won't be much longer. Soon we can test you, and we'll talk about letting you out," the otter submitted.

"Come on, Mills!" Colton pleaded, "I'm not going to hurt anybody; there's nothing wrong with me. I was upset earlier but now I'm all better. I want to come out. You've got my promise."

"We'll see," was Lambert's only response, shrugging and stepping away from the door.

"Hey wait a minute! Wait a minute, man!" Colton pressed, "I just wanna come out, understand? I'm much better now, and I'm not gonna hurt anyone. You've got to let me come back outsi-"

Lambert released the intercom button, silencing the ram even though his jaws still moved behind the glass.

The otter looked back at Fox and smirked, ignoring the tapping of Colton's hands on the glass.

"He had a meltdown a few days ago," Lambert sighed, gesturing towards the ram, "Threw a fit about what would happen if an infected made it to the settlement on Titania, or Corneria somehow. Started agitating Dorothea's group, so we put him in there. Epidemiology was his field."

"Why not test him first?" Fox inquired.

"You volunteered," Lambert shrugged.

Fox didn't mention the lack of choice they'd all had in the matter as Lambert escorted him further down the hall.

They ended up at another door with a rhombus window, and further down the corridor Fox could see the opening into the main mess hall room where Alice and Krystal both awaited him. The door opened with a click and Lambert ushered Fox inside to another examination room, larger than the one they'd been held in, with a long span of counters and cabinets against the wall, stocked with centrifuges and assortments of other lab equipment. Dr. Saru was inside along with a brown-furred vulpine and an amphibian with brown spots, both wearing lab coats, and as the chimpanzee turned around to face him Fox's attention was caught by the one part of the room that wasn't practical and coldly clinical.

"Is that the only viewport on this ship?" Fox inquired, stepping past Saru, past an examination table and pressing his hand to the cold transparisteel, staring out at the endless black field of stars and the reddish-brown globe of Titania below.

Saru grunted out a laugh.

"There aren't many of them. Research ships like these are designed for habitation, but for some reason not too many windows. Maybe it's a safety issue."

"I've seen battleships with more viewports," Fox murmured, trying to take in all of the stars, every detail that he could. He couldn't see _Great Fox _from here; it may have been on the other side of the ship from them or maybe just out of view. Fox wished he'd been able to see it. It might have made him feel better. He thought that seeing the stars, the view outside of this ship, would be a relief, but it had about the same effect on his fear as an image of a warm meal would have on starvation. The stars and the planet existed on the other side of the transparisteel, he knew that if he could somehow push through the barrier his body might eventually reach them, and he could see them twinkling as they always had, not affected in the slightest by the chaos infesting the ship. He knew that they would continue to shine, regardless of what happened. But Fox felt no connection to the stars, did not exist in relation to them, because the stars were not afraid, and Fox was. He thought he'd been performing well under pressure, even regaining some calm in the relative safety of the complex, but he really was afraid. Sustained, bottled-up terror seeped through his bones, eating his muscles like termites in a rotting tree, and the stars were completely indifferent.

Fox's fingers slid down against the transparisteel and he looked back at Dr. Saru, who was smiling serene and pleasant with a twinkle in his brown eyes.

"Let's get down to it," Saru hummed, gesturing towards the vulpine and the amphibian sitting on stools behind him, tinkering with lab paraphernalia, "This is Dr. Jackson and Dr. Craven. They'll be assisting me in the test. You can take a seat on the table, Commander McCloud."

The fox and the amphibian both waved as Saru mentioned them, not even looking away from their equipment, and Fox was unsure which was which. He did as instructed, sliding up on the examination table and resting his arms on his knees.

"Okay," the simian doctor began, "Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to draw a blood sample, then mix it with a radioactive colloid and subject it to our carbon nanotube matrix and run it through a mass spectrometer. A filter will be able to detect the presence of any synthetic molecules like the nanites. Now, have you had any genetic therapy of nano-reparative treatments?"

Fox shook his head.

"What about pancreatic implants for diabetes? Have you had any blood substitute transfusions in the past few months?"

"No diabetes. But I needed synth-blood after some injuries during my last assignment two months ago," Fox shrugged.

"How much?"

"About a half liter."

"That's fine," Saru nodded, "It doesn't sound like you've got anything that might give a false positive. I was a little concerned at first with your accomplice. Her blood isn't exactly... normal or cataloged at least, but she tested as natural. So did Lieutenant Ploughman. I'd expect similar results with you. Right or left arm?"

Fox tugged at the left sleeve of his jacket, sliding it up along his bicep and offering it to Saru. The ape went towards the counters. The air in the room felt cold. Fox watched Craven and Jackson working at the equipment, illuminated harshly under the bright glowpanels. He was all alone in here, with just them. No friends, no sympathies.

Something icy and electrical zig-zagged up his spine, tensing the muscles in his back. In all this time, with all of his suspicions towards Alice and the other survivors, Fox had never really considered if he could be infected. He was so assured up until now that he'd taken the precautions he'd needed to, that he'd been careful. It just wouldn't happen to him. After all of this time, all of the things he'd done, he couldn't be infected by this microscopic enemy. But it could've happened a dozen times by now without his notice.

Saru turned back around, coming forward with a hypodermic injector gun in his hand. He was smiling that same broad, pleasant smile, but his eyes were glassy and reflective in the harsh light, like a doll's eyes, hollow and lifeless.

"This won't hurt one little bit," Saru promised, and Fox's tail stiffened as the doctor came forward.

Fox looked down at his arm, at the thick red fur covering it, at the glimpses of flesh beneath and the occasional scar. His skin felt tight against the muscles, the hair standing on end. He noticed a mole hidden beneath the fur near his wrist, and a few bumps from what could've been ingrown hairs here and there. Had those always been there?

He watched the needle come down almost in slow motion. Had all of his adventuring and risk-taking caught up with him? In the end, would that arm really be his?

The needle sank into Fox's arm and he flinched, tightening his hand into a fist. He watched his forearm for any signs of rebellion, cold sweat trailing down the back of his neck. There was a tugging ache down his arm to his fingertips as the injector gun's vial filled with the swirling red cloud of his blood. Fox looked up at Saru and the ape smiled deeper, and somehow it felt like he was enjoying Fox's discomfort. He looked away from the doctor's face and stared back down at his arm as the needle was removed. Saru handed Fox a cotton ball to press against the place where the needle went in, and the chimp turned around and unscrewed the vial, carrying it over to a centrifuge without a word.

Fox's stomach felt empty, his skin tight as the centrifuge spun, round and round with a light whirring.

What would happen if they told him he was infected? Would his sense of consciousness suddenly flick off, replaced by the mindless rage of one of those horrible things? Would he _feel _his bones break and re-arrange, the muscles tear and weave into new shapes? How much would remain of him until the end? He kept asking himself these questions over and over again, watching his blood spin, round and round.

The centrifuge stopped and Saru plucked it out, picking up a dropper filled with a faint yellow liquid and squirting it into the vial. He re-sealed the vial and shook it up for a few moments. Fox shivered on the table, barely able to feel his arms. Saru poured the contents of the vial into a petri dish and slid it into a large boxy device, pressing a button. The machine let out a low growl and began to process the sample.

He clasped his hands together, forgetting to hold the cotton ball up to his arm. Glancing down at the blaster pistol holstered to his hip, it seemed little more than a useless accessory now. How could it protect him from the things infesting his cells? If he learned he was infected and used the gun on himself, how much escape would it provide? Thoughts like these made Fox hold himself as the machine processed and the three doctors examined the holographic readouts. After a while of staring at the backs of the doctors' white coats, feeling every muscle in his back and legs tense, the machine stopped humming and Saru faced back at Fox, his smile unreadable. His heart seized with dread.

"You tested negative, Commander. Congratulations," the doctor smirked.

The breath rattled out of Fox's lungs through his nose, the tension in his body releasing. His head drooped towards the floor and he swallowed, his heartbeat throbbing in his ears.

"I imagine you're pretty relieved," Saru chuckled.

"...yeah," Fox grunted, trying to smile.

"Well, you're free to join the others in the mess hall complex. We'll test Slippy next," Saru informed him, gesturing towards the door. Fox nodded and got up, making his way out the door. The corridor felt somewhat warmer, the glowpanels somehow less harsh. Leaning against the wall next to the door was Lambert Mills, biting his nails.

"So they cleared you," Lambert remarked, "That's cool."

"Yep," Fox replied, spotting a bulldog in an orange uniform coming down the corridor with a durasteel pipe in his arms. The bulldog only glanced at Fox for a second, moving past to confront Lambert. The otter stepped away from the wall, his brow furrowed and his stance alert.

"Woah. Lloyd..." Lambert said, resting a hand on his holster, "Whatever it is, you need to hold up. You can't be back here."

"We want one of ours in there," the bulldog growled, "We wanna watch what it is you're doing, how you're planning to _test _us. We wanna make sure you're not fixing it to stop anyone from making trouble for you."

"You're the ones talking about burning outsiders," Fox muttered.

Lloyd the bulldog shot Fox a look with beady black eyes but said nothing, glaring back at Lambert.

"We got a right," Lloyd growled.

"Is that what you think, or is that what Dorothea says?" Lambert replied.

"Lyla's faithful need a representative in there," Lloyd rumbled.

"Then why doesn't She just come down here and represent Herself? Or is She too busy juggling the stars or whatever?"

Lloyd ground his teeth and flexed his hands over the durasteel pipe.

"Don't mock my faith," Lloyd grunted, "We got a right."

"Take it up with Barker," Lambert sent back.

"Barker won't listen to us."

"And I listen to Barker. So convince him, it's not my call. He's out in the mess hall, which is where _both _of you should go, now," Lambert instructed both Lloyd and Fox.

Lloyd snorted out through his nose and leaned against the other side of the corridor.

"I'll just wait here," he shrugged.

"Wait out in the mess hall," Lambert growled.

"Make me, sea-munt," Lloyd spat.

Lambert narrowed his eyes hatefully, gripping his holster, but after a moment he relaxed and let his hand fall by his side.

"You can watch me escort the last subject," Lambert relented, "And you can watch the test through the window. Acceptable?"

"For now, maybe," Lloyd replied.

Lambert shook his head, casting a sideways glance towards the bulldog. The racial slur seemed to have perturbed him. Then he looked at Fox.

"I need you to go to the mess hall," Lambert sighed.

"Is there a 'fresher nearby?" Fox inquired, "I gotta take a leak."

"There's one in the mess hall."

"Closer. It's bad, man," Fox insisted.

Lambert rolled his eyes and grunted, pointing to an alcove just up the hallway, "Right there. Then go _right _to the mess hall. I think I saw Alice go in there while you were tested; if she's still in there take her with you when you're done. For fucks sake..."

The otter turned and ventured down the hall, with Lloyd following slowly behind. Fox watched them leave for a few moments and made his way to the alcove. Part of the reason he asked for a nearby refresher was for a place to hide near the examination room so he could come out when Slippy was tested and when Alice brought Childs. Going to the mess hall first, then trying to get back to the examination room past Barker's other security officers, would draw too much attention. The other half of his reasoning was that Fox actually did have to pee.

The door to the refresher slid open, revealing a spotless white room with sinks, urinals built to accommodate multiple races, and two closed stalls. There didn't appear to be anyone else in the room, which didn't really surprise Fox. Alice was supposed to be looking for Childs, and she knew their plan depended on careful timing.

Fox strode up to a urinal, opened up his flight suit and began to relieve himself. He sighed when he was done and pulled the handle to flush, the water gushing and roaring down the drain. He decided not to wash his hands, wanting to catch Lambert just as he brought Slippy into the examination room. Fox was almost at the door when he noticed the sound.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

His muzzle wrinkled oddly and his tail swiped through the air as he turned. From where he was standing the refresher room looked still and spotless and quiet. Nothing moved, but the sound continued.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

He glanced at the hand sinks, at the urinals, and nothing was leaking. The floor around seemed dry.

Drip.

Fox's head turned towards the stalls.

"Alice?" Fox called, "Are you in here?"

Drip-drip.

Drip.

A harsh chill along his tail, whether conditioned or instinctive, said there was something wrong. Fox swung open the door of the first stall and it banged against the wall, revealing a spotless white toilet. He stepped back, thinking himself paranoid. He needed to leave; he had to be there when Slippy was taken in for testing so that he could control the situation. He took a step towards the exit.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Fox looked at the door to the last stall and sniffed the air. Something smelled almost like metal. He recognized the smell as he reached for the latch and froze, then wrapped his hands around his holstered EE-40 and slid it out. The sinews of his arms were taught, his tail rigid as he slowly undid the latch.

Drip.

Drip.

He pressed the end of his gun into the door. It slowly creaked open. Fox's lower jaw went limp and his pupils dilated. Red was spattered and smeared all over the toilet and the surrounding floor, saturated torn rags of a dark uniform tangled in the corner. The contrast of the red amongst the white and steel of the refresher made all the blood somehow less real. Fox couldn't find a breath, his jaw trembling, and he looked up, following crimson smears as if something had been dragged along the wall up to the ceiling. Above the toilet was a mangled vent, torn open from the inside and covered in red. The blood collected at the end of one jagged shard of the vent, swelling, forming a globule, until the ship's artificial gravity pulled it the rest of the way.

Drip.

His feet were frozen to the floor. Slippy, the plan, whatever coordination they'd thought they had, none of it mattered anymore, because _they _were inside. Fox heard the screaming. Loud, outraged sounds of commotion, pleading and cries of protest, then a cacophony of angry bellows from outside the door.

Fox bolted towards the exit, flying through the moment it slid open. He made for the examination room and found the door ajar, the room deserted. Panicked howls erupted from up the corridor, and Fox took off towards the mess hall. Arms pumping, he emerged in the open space to find pandemonium breaking out. Several of the cots and some of the makeshift dividers had been knocked over as survivors scrambled around in a panic, and a large crowd had formed near the heavy blast doors at the front of the room. Fox was near the back of the group but he could still see through the gaps in the crowd the angry face of Lloyd the bulldog gripping onto Slippy's jacket, shouting "It's HIM! I saw it! He's got the mark of the Dragon!"

Fox's breathing was quick and his chest was tight, shoving his way through the gathered masses, trying to reach the front, and he could see Dorothea calmly stepping into the center next to Slippy with a disgusted scowl on her face. Shoving past a female collie, Fox could see Slippy's legs buckled and tears streaming down his face, the synthflesh bandage torn from his left hand, blood oozing between his fingers onto the tile floor.

"Do you see?!" Dorothea cried out, "I warned all of you, the folly of believing in these strangers! These are not saviors but walking blights in our midst. Mother Lyla will not have mercy while the Dragon walks among us."

"No! No, please!" Slippy blubbered, saliva dripping from his mouth as tears poured from his desperate eyes. He reached for the tattered brown shawl around the borzoi's shoulders and she shrank back, drawing a large knife and pointing it at Slippy's face.

"No, you don't get to speak. No more lies! No more hiding! We see you as you ARE," Dorothea projected, as cries of support rang out from some members of the crowd and gasps of shock and protest rang out from others. Fox shouted and tried to shove forward, but his voice was drowned out and a rather pudgy equine in an orange uniform thrust him violently backwards. He came back and tried to force his way around, but the equine jabbed him hard in the nose with a durasteel pipe. There was a burst of white pain as Fox stumbled back and someone else shoved him away, and he collapsed onto his hip, tasting blood in his mouth. Baring his teeth furiously he struggled to get up as members of the crowd kicked or stepped on him to get closer, and Fox could hear other, familiar voices joining in.

"It doesn't have to be this way," Saru cried out, "We've had others that we've suspected of contamination and we've quarantined them. We can do the same here. It won't take long to prepare one of the conservators as a stasis chamber. It'll stop the spread of the infection."

"And how do all of YOU feel about allowing this evil among us?!" Dorothea shouted, and the crowd exploded with outraged shouts and gesturing arms. Fox got to his feet and elbowed his way between a pair of reptilians, working his way around the equine, thoughts racing. There might've been a crackle and fragments of Peppy's voice over the comlink; Fox couldn't tell with all of the noise and chaos. The fur on the back of his neck prickled and he felt a tingling sensation spread up his arms from his fingertips, almost like the feeling of jumping to warp, but it was the last of Fox's concerns.

He had to tell them about the vent. The creatures were inside somehow.

But he had to save Slippy, too.

Where was Alice? Where were his friends?

What happened to the plan?

Fighting his way through the undulating crowd, catching glimpses of Doctor Saru feebly trying to calm everyone down, of Dorothea raising her arms and reading aloud from the Lylatian Tome as Slippy bawled quietly on the floor in front of her, Fox's heart raced in his chest, louder than anything else.

"And the sky, red as blood, tore open and we beheld a great dark Dragon, with eyes like molten rock. And the trees curled and the soil began to smoke, tearing open as the bones of those departed rose from the grave," Dorothea preached, "I looked to behold Ealdwin's flesh turn gray as dust, his bones twist into monstrous form, and I fled in horror. Behind I could hear the Dragon with a voice like thunder say

'I am Kalimo, devourer of worlds'."

The borzoi slammed the book closed loudly and pointed at Slippy with her knife. Fox pushed by a cream-furred leporid and tried to get a better view, and his gaze locked on to an azure-furred vixen several meters away, separated from him by dozens of layers of people. Krystal's eyes were large, her jaw trembling. He could feel the fear and desperation from her like frigid waves on an icy beach. She didn't know what to do. Fox didn't really know, either. He suddenly spotted Lambert nearby, and across the room on the other side of the crowd a pale yellow reptilian that could've been Gary Childs.

There was still no sign of Alice.

"It has come to pass," Dorothea announced, "We are witness to the Adjudication. Kalimo has begun his scourge of the galaxy, twisting our flesh to devour our souls. Lyla will not come to save us while there is impure flesh among her pack. HERE we have impure flesh! It must be cut out! BURNED out!"

Yells from across the room reached Fox's ears and he saw a handful of survivors in tattered orange uniforms beating and striking the shaggy white canine in security garb, dragging him closer to the center of the crowd with Dorothea until Lloyd released Slippy, lunging forward and bashing the canine in the face with his steel pipe. The canine went down, blood staining his fur, and Dorothea's supporters gave off primal yells as they triumphantly held up the incinerator that had been in the canine's arms. The shouts of the crowd proved deafening, several retreating away from the flamethrower-armed fundamentalists as Lloyd held up the incinerator and rejoined Dorothea with a brown-feathered avian and a feline that held Slippy down on the floor.

Fox was shouting until his throat was raw, fighting his way to the center as other security officers made their way towards Dorothea, the flailing arms of everyone around making it hard to see. He couldn't see Krystal anymore but he could feel her, he could sense that she was trying to find her way through the masses towards him, but his only concern was getting to Slippy.

A hoarse voice yelled something that was rendered incomprehensible by all the noise, then a loud pop of gunfire silenced everyone as a green blaster bolt pounded into the ceiling.

"That's enough!" Kurt Barker shouted, the end of his blaster rifle smoking as he made his way towards Dorothea. Two other security officers holding blaster rifles backed him up while a third helped the bleeding canine to his feet. Lloyd the bulldog pointed the incinerator at Barker.

"Let him go, now!" Barker snapped, his yellow feathers ruffling angrily.

Dorothea's head tilted to the side as others crowded behind her bearing pipes and chains and makeshift firebombs.

"And what are you going to do if I _don't_?" Dorothea asked quietly, "Are you going to shoot all of us? _Can _you shoot all of us...before we take those from you?"

Barker didn't have a response, but he looked to the side as others armed with knives and makeshift spears began to emerge from the crowd behind the avian and his other security officers. More and more of the scientists and personnel that Fox assumed were on Barker's side began to retreat, and the avian looked very alone. His arms shook slightly, his eyes wide, and he slowly lowered the rifle.

Slippy was letting out choking sobs, struggling to breathe with the tight grip that the feline had on his collar.

Fox shoved his way past a dark-skinned amphibian, finally close enough to yell, "Stop!"

Dorothea's head snapped in his direction.

"You," Dorothea hissed, pointing at Fox with her knife, "You would invite God's judgment on us all."

"I'm trying to warn you! Those _things _are inside! We're all in danger!" Fox protested.

"YOU brought them here!" Dorothea shouted, "We're solving the problem YOU created, and you can't even see it. Proud, sanctimonious mercenary. I...I don't understand you. You people... at all. You look around, you see what's happening here, but you refuse to read the signs. I don't get it... Don't you believe in God?"

There was a dead silence as everyone's eyes were on Fox, and to answer no struck him as the wrong thing to say. A lie seemed equally unwise.

"Your silence speaks _volumes_," Dorothea sneered, turning back towards Slippy.

"You let him go," Fox snarled, his fingers wrapping around his holster, "Or I'll have to kill you."

Dorothea's supporters glared at him and took a step closer. Fox didn't blink, and Dorothea didn't flinch.

"Then kill me," Dorothea shrugged, "I have the Mother of Stars to protect me."

He could hear Slippy crying as the shouts of agreement from Dorothea's congregation erupted, he could see Barker and Saru and Krystal watching, helpless, doing nothing to stop it. Fox felt disconnected from it, like watching a holodrama. The crowd grew agitated and Slippy continued to cry and bleed as Dorothea addressed her followers, knife raised in her hand.

"Here lies this fallen soul, corrupted by the touch of the Dragon. He turned his back on God, and She could not protect him from the darkness. It is thanks to him that the blood-debt must be paid. We shall purify our pack. Cut out the evil," the borzoi announced. The blaster pistol was in Fox's hand and his arm came up and lined up the sights with Dorothea's face. It didn't feel like his arm anymore. He could hear them all yelling, Slippy crying, and his heartbeat in his ears. He remembered something that Wolf told him once: _Don't hesitate. When the time comes, just act. _His finger wrapped around the trigger.

Dorothea looked down at Slippy, raised the knife, and then looked right at Fox. If she was afraid, Fox couldn't tell.

"God will bless us all…Armen," Dorothea whispered, and a quivering smile spread across her face as a single drop of blood streaked out of her eye like a tear.

Then her face exploded.

Gasps of shock and terror erupted from the crowd and Fox thought he might've pulled the trigger without realizing, then he saw the borzoi's face tearing itself open like a blooming flower of carnage, her blood-drenched skull clattering to the floor as her tongue wriggled out unnaturally long. She dropped to all fours in front of the stunned crowd, and visceral crunching and splashing drew Fox's eyes to both Barker and Doctor Saru. Barker was making loud gagging, choking sounds as bony arthropod legs clawed out from between his beak, his shoulders convulsing as his eyes extended on long stalks out of his sockets and talons shot out of his plumed fingertips. Saruman Finch's head was unrecognizable, spewing blood as his skull stretched and mushroomed outwards, his simian hands replaced by flabby red tentacles.

The crowd began to scatter as hollow moans pierced the room, and for some reason it was only then that Fox really heard the screaming.


	9. Planet Terror

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey guys. Things got pretty intense in the last chapter, right? Well this is a horror story, which means that it's only going to get worse. Not too much to say here other than dive in. This story is so close to being done, you should expect the last chapter before the end of this month****. As always, I welcome your thoughts in the form of a review or a PM. The terror continues...-TU**

* * *

**-Planet Terror-**

The bridge of the _Great Fox _stank. The queer, mingled stench of cold sweat and burnt flesh and scorched electronic equipment tainted the sterile air cycling out of the vents near the ceiling. Peppy's empty stomach growled but he doubted his ability to keep down food. He scrutinized the lines of computer code running down the console screen mounted on the command chair's armrest, his furred digits pecking into the keyboard as he decrypted the data packet ROB uploaded before the end. The android's body was still sprawled on the floor in front of the right forward control console, arms splayed out with a blackened hole in his chest and a chunk of his head blown off. Every once in a while, Peppy would catch sight of it out of the corner of his eye and lose his place, fingers unable to type. Violence had been his profession more than thirty five years, as a member of the Cornerian Armed Forces or Team StarFox. At some point he'd lost count of the people he'd killed. It was the first time in years that Peppy felt like a murderer. ROB's destruction and his ominous warning played out in Peppy's head before he went back to work, tightening his jaw.

Behind the chair, Falco was sanitizing the floor of the bridge with an ultraviolet mop, a rag and a sprayer full of disinfectant, cleaning up the final remains of the creature that had caused them so much trouble. He was still in his crimson pressure suit to protect him from any nanites that might be active in the remains, and a portable waste disintegrator was on the floor nearby. It had been a quiet, mournful process of carefully wrapping the thing's body in a tarp and venting it out of the auxiliary airlock, both of them unable to keep their minds off ROB and the new difficulties of rescuing the team without the android.

Peppy deleted a few characters in the last line of code, then scrolled back to the top of the data file and scanned over the whole thing. This was definitely a job for Slippy's eyes. Whatever it was that ROB had retrieved for them, the file had been encrypted and then corrupted by the assimilation that the android suffered, practically unreadable by the _Great Fox_'s computer system. It required manual revisions to the code to clean the file up enough. Even though Peppy had expanded his technical skills after retiring from flight duty and field work, Slippy could've done a more accurate job at a faster pace. He had to hope for the best.

Peppy uploaded the data packet to the _Great Fox _network hub and a holographic screen expanded with a progress bar and the heading **Reading File...**

"What's up with it?" Falco muttered from behind.

"We're about to find out," Peppy returned.

"How 'bout Fox?"

Peppy glanced at the holographic screen projecting the feed from Fox's headset.

"Looks like he's hitting the 'fresher," Peppy grunted, watching the progress bar fill up.

The window disappeared and the holoprojectors drew a large model of the CRV _Starghast _in green wire-frame in front of the command chair. Peppy rubbed his chin and his brow furrowed as a handful of yellow dots appeared over the layout of the ship, as well as a blinking blue path from a location on the starboard side of the hull to a point in the central command mound. The leporid enhanced the path and confirmed that the starting point was in the general area of the mess hall complex. As he directed his attention to the yellow dots, Falco slid up next to him, resting an arm on the burnt section of the imitation leather. Peppy gave a cautious glance over his shoulder at Falco's sleeve, wondering if a trace of the creature's blood might have smeared on the chair. He breathed through his nose and looked back over the projection.

"What is it?" the avian inquired.

A crooked smirk spread under Peppy's gray whiskers.

"It looks like ROB found a direct path from Fox's location to the Source," he answered, "Bypasses a few obstacles and some choke points where he could get swarmed. Wouldn't be too hard to reach as long as his ammo holds out."

"And these?" Falco gestured at the yellow dots.

"Even better news," Peppy said, "They're escape pods."

Falco's bottom jaw loosened and the fleshy corners of his beak smiled.

"What about tha' ship ejecting 'em all weeks ago?"

"Maybe it was most, but not all," Peppy shrugged, "The ship originally had three dozen scattered around the fuselage, I guess when everything went to hell and most of them were jettisoned, the crew panicked and made for the mess hall. The officers on the bridge and anyone else that knew about it probably got killed. There's only seven or so left. Most towards the bow, but there's a few on the port side and one near the control mound..."

"We can get 'em out," Falco chirped, "We can get 'em all out."

"No shit," Peppy grunted, "They have to get to them first, and right now they're kind of prisoners in the mess hall. But at least it gives them something they can plan for. Best news we've had so far."

Peppy was about to get on the comm to tell Fox when he glanced up through the viewport at the _Starghast _and his eyes went wide.

"Fuck!" Peppy snapped, leaping out of his seat.

"What?!" Falco demanded.

"THAT!" Peppy barked, pointing out the viewport to several objects launching out of the _Starghast _trailing white vapor trails.

"It's ejecting more escape pods, looks like they're headed for the surface," Peppy growled, throwing himself over ROB's body and into the right forward control console, grabbing the helm controls, "If those things are aboard they'll spread to every life form on Titania. And when Morrow finds out the nanites left the shipshe'll vaporize it whether or not Fox is inside."

Falco bounded for the bridge doors, yelling, "I'm goin' for tha' hangar bay, tell ya when I'm ready for launch."

"No time for Arwings!" Peppy snapped, "We can't do flight ops without ROB. We'll have to use _Great Fox_'s weapons."

"How we gonna fly this _ship _without ROB?!"

"Badly!" Peppy barked, "Now get on weapons and pray we don't need radar!"

The rabbit's nostrils flared and he twisted the helm control sticks, the plasma engines coming to life and echoing from the depths of the _Great Fox _with a low whirring growl. The _Starghast _slipped out of view, Titania's massive red globe filling the viewport as the escape pods streaked past, only visible thanks to holographic crosshair displays projected over their positions.

"Come on, give me something Falco!" Peppy yelled.

"I got the main guns up but I need tha' range I don't gotta solution-"

"Just fire goddammit get on the missiles if you have to!"

Thick yellow bolts pounded out of the ship's guns, searing across space and winking out of sight in the distance. The five tiny dots sped further away.

"Falco!"

"I'm tryin! I need radar!"

Peppy cursed and set the ship's throttle on auto, scrambling out of his seat and calling up the radar controls on the command chair console, trying to access the targeting controls for the ship's missile pods as well. The radar interface screen came up, and Peppy directed the data feed to weapons control.

"I gotta solution on tha' first two!"

"Hit 'em!"

The _Great Fox's _guns spoke again, spitting yellow turbolaser blasts, missing one of the pods by meters before impacting the closest one and blasting it apart.

"Keep going!" Peppy shouted, calling up the missile pod controls and getting radar lock on three of the remaining four pods. The whole viewport was taken up by the red planet, and the escape pods were easier to spot bathed in re-entry fires. Peppy ordered the missiles to launch and watched three white trails of vapor streak past the viewport, bearing down on the pods as the planet drew closer. A console at an unmanned control station squeaked out an alarm and Peppy had to ignore it.

The missiles found their targets. One explosion, then another blossomed in the distance, and Peppy watched nervously as the last missile chased its target. There was a tiny explosion and the command console flashed the message **Negative Impact** as the radar showed two contacts still on the screen.

"We're getting too deep in the atmosphere to use missiles, they're burning up before they reach the pods! Shoot them!" Peppy hollered.

"I got it!"

Two more blasts lanced out of the main guns, two blasts missed. The re-entry fires around the pods burned brighter.

"FALCO!"

"Will ya' shut up old man!"

Three golden blasts tore across space, the second one finding a pod and blasting it apart in a yellow-white cloud. More alarms wailed and the ship trembled, the roaring of air resistance against the viewport just barely audible. One pod remained, searing across the mesosphere.

Peppy was just about to look back and scream some more when the main guns fired a rain of thick yellow blasts, stabbing around the fiery pod before one pounded into the target and tore it apart in a blaze of fire.

"Yeah motherfucker!" Falco shouted boastfully, Peppy barely hearing him as he leapt from the command chair to the helm controls, grasping hard and pulling up, the engines rumbling as the airframe screeched in protest. An alarm continued to sound from one of the consoles, but Peppy was more concerned with pulling the ship out of Titania's atmosphere. It got to the point that he couldn't take any more of the ringing in his ears, even as the whitish hue began to fade to the blackness of space.

"Find out what that is," Peppy commanded, and Falco stood from the weapons controls and searched around, ending up at the navigation console.

"Somethin' about uplink broadcast protocols?" Falco read out, perplexed.

"We didn't call for a warp gate broadcast..." Peppy muttered, then his ears fell limp with dread.

"No... no, no, no," the rabbit whispered, dragging up on the helm controls, easing on the throttle and getting out of his seat. He made his way frantically to the navigation console, directing Falco to take up the helm.

"What?" Falco asked, wrapping his feathers around the controls, "What's goin' on?"

"The worst," Peppy croaked, staring through the viewport as the _Starghast _came into view, the fabric of space before the dark ship warping inwards, widening into a bright gate tunnel.

"How's it doin' that?!" Falco shouted.

"That's _why _it hacked the system; it wanted our priority clearance codes so it could gate out without the other side stopping it. Launching the pods was just a distraction."

"Can _we _stop it?"

"Too late," Peppy breathed, the _Starghast_'s engines blazing white before the ship flashed into the warp gate. His fingers flew over the navigation controls, trying to keep the gate open long enough to pursue.

"Keep going, we need to follow wherever it goes!" Peppy commanded, and Falco twisted the helm control sticks with blue feathers ruffled on the back of his head. The dilated tunnel of space-time stayed open, swelling in front of the _Great Fox. _

"Fox! You need to come in now! This is bad!" Peppy shouted, glancing at the holoscreens to find the feed from all three headsets had gone out, hearing static and stuttered bits of what may have been screams on the other end. He knew it was just interference from the warp gate, but his instincts told him something _awful _was happening on the ship. Peppy's breathing started to come in quick, labored gasps.

"Where's it headed?" Falco said, eyes fixed out the viewport as he wrestled with the ungainly helm controls.

The rabbit shook his head and gritted his teeth, focusing on the task in front of him. It would take several minutes to plot a gated warp jump without ROB's help. He would need to work fast. But he stayed at the navigation console long enough to inspect the destination coordinates. There was a sinking in his empty gut and his limbs seized with fear as his brown eyes shrank behind the spectacles. He didn't need to look up the coordinates to know where the _Starghast _was headed. He knew them by heart. He'd used those coordinates more than any other in his life. Cold sweat dripped through his fur down the side of his head, and he scrambled to call up the warp jump interface, fighting the tremors of his hands. Peppy never imagined everything could get this bad.

* * *

Screams and bright lights and swarming frightened people, hollow moans and sweet vomit stench: It was sensory overload. Survivors were shrieking wildly and running in all directions, knocking into Fox, obscuring his view as he tried to locate Krystal, Slippy, anybody in the madness. He fought his way towards the center and Slippy was gone, but the creature that had once been Dorothea was there with spindly legs and pink feelers tearing out of her back. Her face was an orchid of flesh and blood that quivered and faced Lloyd the bulldog, who frantically brought up his incinerator. A jet of milky liquid that reeked like piss squirted from Dorothea's face and soaked Lloyd's upper body with a hissing sound, and he screamed through bubbling, steaming flesh. The bulldog tumbled to the floor, his arm flying through the air as a blast streaked from his incinerator and three running bystanders were swept with flames. Their pitched shrieks rang through the room as their burning arms swung about and the Dorothea creature tackled Lloyd, pink tendrils whipping his body and burrowing into his melting flesh. Fox's face twisted and he shrank back, bumping shoulders into a fleeing canine and hearing a pop of blaster fire. In a corner, the creature that was once Doctor Saru lumbered towards a petrified vulpine in a lab coat, and Fox couldn't remember if it was Doctor Jackson or Craven. Saru's torso elongated, gushing ever more red onto the floor, then his upper half split vertically apart, wicked yellow teeth lining the new chasm. A tentacle lashed out between the jaws and coiled around the vulpine's neck, yanking him in between the teeth as the massive mouth crunched shut around the fox's shoulders.

More blood. More screams and chaos and terror.

Fox staggered back, catching a glimpse of the yellow avian body that used to be Kurt Barker. His head was missing, arms stretched forward with talons growing out of the fingertips. The palms of Barker's hands split open in large, bloodshot eyes as a gaping maw chewed its way from under the uniform's armor padding, pink feelers writhing out wildly between the jaws. The eyes in Barker's palms locked on Fox and he shuffled back, bringing up his blaster pistol. Barker moaned and trampled at Fox as his finger caressed the trigger, then the bloodshot eyes landed on a nearby primate in a yellow jumpsuit and the creature charged with a squeal. Fox's mind was on finding his friends, finding a weapon that might actually help, and he soon lost the Barker-creature in the swarming crowds. A hand gripped his shoulder and Fox frantically spun around, thrusting his pistol into Krystal's face.

"Come on!" Krystal shouted, grabbing his arm as she took off into the crowd. They dodged around fleeing people, making their way back to the body of Lloyd and the Dorothea-creature, Krystal sprinting around the two and diving for the incinerator on the floor nearby. The vixen's hands wrapped around the flamethrower and the Dorothea-thing belched, skittering towards her with writhing tendrils and a whipping tongue. She brought the incinerator up but the only result was an aborted burp of flame.

"Krystal!" Fox yelled, shooting the Dorothea creature in the back once, twice, three times. The monster squealed and Krystal leapt up, dodging the jet of steaming acid from Dorothea's mouth, slapping at the fuel canister on the flamethrower. He ran to join her, blasting another red bolt into Dorothea, then Krystal grunted and took aim. Roaring flames swirled around the thing and it let out a chirping howl, squirming on the floor as black smoke billowed into the ceiling. Heat baked into Fox's fur and fire alarms rang in his ears. They took off towards the bunks and tables, watery eyes searching for Slippy through the gray haze of dissipating smoke as the terrified crowd thinned out.

"Slippy! Slippy!" Fox shouted into his comlink, but the only reply was static.

"There!" Krystal snapped, running towards a pair of black boots and blue flight suit pants sticking out from under a long dining table.

Krystal passed him the incinerator and crouched down, reaching for Slippy, and Fox glimpsed underneath. The amphibian was bawling hysterically, tears streaming down his terror-wrenched face as drool slipped from the corners of his mouth, his white StarFox jacket smeared with blood from the open wound on his hand. He was trembling and it looked like he barely noticed Krystal even when she grabbed his arm and shouted his name.

"Slippy come on!" Fox shouted, and the amphibian wailed as Krystal dragged him out from under the table. After a moment or two of effort he finally started to move out by his own will, even though he was still crying. The gray haze of smoke was growing thicker, dulling the bright white glowpanels, the fire alarms and screams and gunfire muffling all other sounds. Krystal's arm was around Slippy's shoulder as she firmly led him out from under the table, trying to bring him to his feet, when the vixen's face came up and she screamed Fox's name.

Fox whipped around as the Barker-creature charged out of the gray haze, claws extended with a hollow groan erupting from the enormous mouth in its chest. He swung up with the incinerator but the creature was too close, swiping away the end of the flamethrower and reaching for his face. The bloodshot eye and the surrounding claws came terrifyingly close and Fox stumbled back with a cry, smashing the arms away with the incinerator then kicking into the waist with a thumpy squish. A wormy pink tendril wrapped around Fox's boot heel, snapping off the creature as his foot came back down, and he shouted at Krystal to take cover as he pulled the trigger and set roaring flames around the headless walking corpse.

Wild shrieks came out of Slippy's mouth, Krystal shielding him with her body against the table's underside as the Barker-thing moaned and stumbled, bathed in orange fire. It screamed out something low and frightful almost like words and reached for Fox, still coming as flames melted the yellow feathers black and the eyes in the palms of the hands burst. Fox yelled and blasted it again with fire, his face stinging from the inferno, one continuous blast that reduced the creature to little more than a flaming silhouette. The Barker-thing wailed as new appendages snapped out of its shoulders, stumbling back into the smoky haze, lighting tables and curtains aflame as it collapsed somewhere on the floor. Fox landed hard on his ass, crushing his tail and hitting the pink tendril around his boot with the butt of his incinerator, fighting it as it struggled to crawl up his leg. He scraped it off with a grunt of disgust and smashed it into the floor, flinching with terror as a swift figure sprinted past.

Fox brought up his incinerator but the figure was already moving by, a pudgy yellow reptilian in a dirty gray uniform.

"No one's who they are, they're inside and outside got to get out get out!" Gary Childs stammered, galloping wildly into the haze of gray smoke and orange flame.

Fox gulped, coughed from the smoke and crawled to his feet, moving towards Krystal as she tried to move the crying Slippy back out from under the table.

Fox's mouth was open to say something but he could still hear Childs screaming "We let the dead in! We let the dead in we have to get out!" over and over as his outline grew fainter through the haze, moving towards the front of the mess hall room, and his green eyes went wide.

"NO! Childs don't!" Fox yelled, taking off after the reptilian, hearing Krystal call after him.

Fox was shouting after Childs again and again, his eyes stinging from smoke, feeling water drip onto his fur from the ceiling as the fire suppression system kicked in. He saw the outline of the chameleon reappear, coming up to the heavy blast doors leading out to the rest of the ship, frantically entering commands into the controls.

"Childs!" Fox roared, hoping it would carry over everything and somehow reach the crazed reptilian, the gray haze clearing as more fire suppression sprinklers came to life from above.

The reptilian looked back at him, entering one final command into the door controls. Heavy locks shifted, the haze cleared as Fox took in the scene, frozen in horror: The Finch-thing still eating a scientist in the corner, burned or bloody bodies littering the floor around and a stink of flames and rot and death clogging his nostrils. Childs glancing worriedly at him, perhaps thinking only of leaving one hell rather than avoiding a fall to another. Krystal and Slippy reaching him, only now realizing what Fox was too late to stop.

Then the blast doors slid open, and Fox saw the outlines through the darkened halls beyond. Dozens of the creatures, different species all dead and twisted in different ways, waiting patiently outside the doors as if it was all part of some plan. A cacophony of alien moans rattled through the room and Childs faced something that speared him through the shoulder on a grappling hook made of flesh and bone, raising him off his feet with a scream. A pair of gnarled, hairless arms came out of the darkness, grabbing Childs' legs and his ribcage in a twisting motion. Childs gave one last scream before the arms tore his body in two, a splashing explosion of dark blood across the floors and ceiling as his legs were thrown to one side of the room and his upper half was tossed to the other, tumbling in a tangle of limp arms and straggling maroon entrails.

Krystal cried out in horror and Fox brought up his incinerator as the horde flooded in, knowing there was too many to hold off.

A large glass jar sailed over his head and shattered about a meter in front of him, splashing in a large puddle between them and the advancing horde, then a female cheetah with brown hair extensions appeared, raising an incinerator with gritted teeth. Fire roared from the incinerator and swept into the puddle of accelerant fuel, igniting in a bright wall of yellow flames between them and the creatures.

They halted and shrank back for a moment, moaning and howling and clawing angrily at the flames. It might have been the indiscernible mix of all the noise with the roar of the flames, it might have just been fear messing with Fox's head, but it sounded like they were yelling his name.

Then Alice glared at him with violet eyes and bellowed, "LET'S GO!"

They sprinted away from the creatures as they quickly found ways around the wall of fire, even Slippy moving into a run by now. Winding through the cots and makeshift cubicles, fleeing the fiery yellow haze, they tried not to hear all of the screams of pain and terror as the horde found survivor after survivor in the mess hall. They had almost reached the opening to the corridors leading to the medical suite when a sweating and terrified enhydra in a security uniform appeared from behind a storage crate, carrying a blaster rifle in his trembling arms.

"Adelaide! Addy, please!" Lambert began stammering, but stopped when both Fox and Alice raised their incinerators in his direction, all while the four of them inched back towards the brightly lit corridor.

"Don't come closer," Alice hissed.

"They'll kill me with the others," Lambert begged, jaw trembling, moving a step closer.

"I don't trust you. You're on your own," the feline sent back.

"I can show you a way out!" Lambert blurted, just as a scream and a hollow roar erupted too close for comfort.

"Good enough for me, come on!" Fox snapped, gesturing with his incinerator down the corridor. Lambert nodded and sprinted ahead, leading them down the way as Alice kept an eye on their rear. Screams and crashes from the mess hall followed them all the way down the corridor, and Fox didn't know how to feel about it.

Fox could hear Slippy half-panting, half crying behind him amongst all the footsteps, and he tried to keep his eyes trained on Lambert just in case he turned out to be something other than what he appeared. He couldn't trust anything after what happened. Finch's test, supposedly clearing them all save for Slippy, couldn't be relied upon given that Finch himself had been infected.

"Where are we going?" Fox demanded, gripping onto the incinerator as Lambert took them around a corner.

"Utility chamber near the edge of the complex," Lambert remarked, "There's a reinforced pressure door that can let you out into the ship."

"Like that's safer," Alice quipped.

"It beats the slaughterhouse," Fox sent back.

The five ran down the hall, eventually passing a door with a rhombus-shaped window where a pale-furred ram was pounding furiously to be let out. Lambert slowed and gestured down to the end of the corridor to a windowless metal door.

"There's the utility chamber. I'm letting Colton out, he's trapped in there otherwise," the enhydra remarked, moving towards the door with the window.

Fox gestured to Krystal, who led Slippy towards the utility chamber. Alice shook her head anxiously, her spotted tail curling with tension.

"We don't have time for this, those things will come down here for us any _second_," she said, glancing down the hall, "We've got two incinerators, we can't protect a large group from those things. _And _this guy was quarantined for a reason."

"We can't just leave him to die," Lambert retorted.

"I agree," Fox breathed, "Save as many as we can. We have to try."

"Fox!" Krystal called from the other end of the corridor as Lambert typed a code into a keypad next to the door, "The door's welded shut! We'll have to cut through."

"Tell me you've got a plasma cutter," Fox said.

"Yeah, sure," the otter replied, passing Fox a silver cylinder from his belt. Fox clipped the plasma cutter to his own belt, and the ram in the window smiled with relief as the door hissed open.

"Colton, we've gotta get out of here it's a madhouse..." Lambert said, his tail falling limp as he looked through the open door.

Colton's upper half, the part visible through the door's window, was just as Fox had expected it. The bottom half had formed into an enormous bloated sluglike tail with vestigial arms and spidery legs and pink feelers that wiggled as the door opened. Lambert was stumbling backwards in mid-curse when Colton thrust a hand into the otter's face, the fingers sinking into the fur like putty as a pink tendril shot out of Colton's wrist and slipped around Lambert's neck.

Fox yelled in shock, stumbling back and bringing up his incinerator with Alice at his side as Lambert let out a muffled gurgle. Colton shrank back into the quarantine room with a glare, dragging Lambert away by his face.

"Go go go!" Fox snapped, sprinting towards the utility chamber with Alice, hearing an insect-like chirping noise from behind them.

"What, what is it?" Slippy cried, coming to the doorway. Slippy's watery eyes swelled and his jaw went slack.

"You've got to be fucking kidding," the amphibian croaked emptily, and Fox looked.

Down the hall, he could make out Lambert's feet hanging out the door of the quarantine room, twitching reflexively. Crawling over Lambert's ankles, skittering on a dozen arachnid feet, was the head of Kurt Barker, his beak open in a near-180 degree angle to the floor with his eyeballs extended on slimy stalks out of his skull. Fox's stomach turned over and he bared his teeth as the gurgling head crawled towards him, making quiet choking noises. Barker's head let off one last moan before Fox blasted it with fire. It crackled and burned as Fox went through the door, joining Alice and Slippy and Krystal and sealing the door shut behind him. It was a small, cramped room with shelves full of scattered boxes and tools, and at the other end was an ovate brown pressure door, heavily reinforced and welded shut. Fox was breathing raggedly, and not from physical exhaustion. He absentmindedly checked the fuel on his incinerator's readout screen, seeing twenty nine percent fuel remaining.

"Wh—what happened to Lambert?" Krystal inquired.

Fox just looked at her, and the vixen swallowed, nodding.

"I'll start cutting through the door," she muttered, extending her hand for the plasma cutter. Fox handed it to her and stared at the wall. A moment passed and he put his hand up to his headset microphone, calling for Peppy. A static hiss was his only answer.

"What do we do now?" Fox whispered under his breath.

"I can feel them inside of me," Slippy murmured, his wounded hand shaking, "This won't be my arm much longer. When I close my eyes I hear something. I can't make it out yet. They're whispering in my head."

"Keep it together for me," Fox breathed, "We're getting you out."

Slippy chuckled bitterly, his eyes watering. The plasma cutter came to life with a whine and a bright glow in Krystal's hand, and she looked away from the light as she brought the plasma blade to the seams of the welded door. There was a crackling hum as the blade cut into the reinforced durasteel.

"Is there still a world somewhere?" the amphibian said, "It feels like there's no other place than this. It might as well be. I'll never see Amy again."

"I need you to stay strong," Fox told him firmly.

Slippy looked at Fox with what looked very much like spite, then frowned as more tears came.

"I'm begging you, Fox," Slippy wept, "Just kill me. Please. _Please_. Don't let me turn into something horrible."

"Don't give up on me, I'm not giving up on you," Fox whispered.

"Shooting him and torching the body might be the biggest favor you could give," Alice shrugged quietly, "I'd do it. Beats the alternative."

Fox's lips peeled away from his teeth and he came close to her face, "Touch him and I'll burn you right here. With everyone that's died out there _just now_,we need to save all we can. No one's making it off this ship alone."

"From where I'm standing, everyone is already dead," Alice hissed, "You? Me? All of us. Escape from this place is a mirage. The only question is how long each of us lasts."

"You're just throwing it in then? After all that, letting them win? Didn't peg you for the weak one," Fox grunted.

"If I'm the weak one I guess you're the _stupid _one for not seeing what's in front of you," Alice growled, "The whole time we've been here, as hard as we've fought, have we made a difference? Did we save any of those people back there? Or has everything gotten worse and worse? Our odds of survival have gone down, not up, and they're shrinking by the minute."

"You know I've gotta wonder why that is. And where you were instead of finding Childs and helping contain what happened."

Fox slowly pointed his incinerator at Alice and she shoved it away.

"Some plan you had. I think it's pretty clear _Childs_ wasn't the one we should've been looking at, don't you? I went to the 'fresher and what I saw told me those things were in here somehow. I was getting the incinerator Barker took from us when everything went to shit and-"

Alice jerked as a sharp banging impact sounded against the door to the mess hall complex. Muffled moans could be heard just over the whining of Krystal's plasma cutter.

Slippy lowered his face and sniffled, hugging himself and smearing more blood onto the sleeves of his jacket.

Alice and Fox stared at the door for a moment, then the door trembled with another strike that Fox felt in his heart.

"Krystal..." Fox murmured, his voice strained.

"I know."

He looked back at her dragging the plasma cutter down the door frame. She still had more than half of the pressure door left to cut around. A shriek and another crash into the flimsy door on the other side, denting the metal inwards.

"It doesn't have to be pretty," Alice shivered.

"I _know_!" Krystal snapped, "Find another cutter!"

Fox hissed and swept his paws over the shelves, moving small boxes out of the way, finding another plasma cutter as the door shook with another impact. Slippy began to slide down the wall towards the floor and the hair on the back of Alice's neck bristled as she looked at the increasingly deformed door. Fox set his incinerator down near the wall and pressed the button on the plasma cutter, the short blade coming to life with a blue light and a high whine. He stabbed into the other side of the pressure door, dragging it along the edges to meet Krystal's cut. The next bang against the door seemed to shake the entire room, and Fox didn't look back to see how bad the door looked now. They were almost through. He could hear feral scratching and guttural snarling of monsters clawing their way in.

Fresh sweat poured down the side of Fox's face. His mouth was parched with dehydration and terror. He looked away from the light of the plasma cutter, into Krystal's face. Her jaw was tight and strong, her eyes wet but hard. He couldn't smell her over the acrid metallic odor of melting metal, but he tried to draw strength from the sight of her face.

Krystal's cutter went out and she pulled back, letting Fox finish cutting through the last of the weld. He turned off his cutter and threw his shoulder into the center of the door, and it gave off a heavy squeak as it popped loose and fell into the metal floor on the other side with a thud.

Fox picked up his incinerator and took Slippy by the hand, leading him out of the utility room into the dark corridor. The hanging exposed pipes, low ceilings and brown metal bulkheads of the _Starghast _embraced them all as they flooded out, the path to both sides shrouded in black.

The utility room door trembled and dented further inwards as Fox and Krystal lifted the heavy pressure door back into place, careful not to touch the red-hot edges of the door with their bare hands. Grunting and shoving it into the frame with a squeaking of metal, they lit their plasma cutters and ran the blades back into the frame with a crackling whine.

They were halfway done, listening to the impacts against the door come faster as the hollow roars grew louder and more distinct, when Fox heard a crackling in his headset.

"Fox! Fox, tell me you're there!"

"Peppy! God damn!" Fox shouted, putting his hand to his headset and passing the plasma cutter to Alice. The feline went to work re-patching the door as Fox picked up his incinerator and looked back and forth down the gloomy corridor.

"Are you safe?"

"The mess hall was a death trap. Most of the people in charge were infected. I don't know if we were exposed or not," Fox reported hoarsely, his throat aching, "The survivors are dead, Peppy, I...I didn't save them."

"Krystal and Slippy, are they alright?!"

"Yeah. Alice is with us too, we're the only ones left."

"Listen, Fox, there isn't much time," Peppy growled, "I deciphered the data packet ROB left for us. There's still two escape pods on the ship."

At this, Krystal's ears perked up and her face grew more serious. She turned off her plasma cutter and drew away from the door as Alice finished up.

"I've also got a route you can take to the central VIRGIS mainframe, that's where the Source probably is. One of the escape pods is close to that point, the other one is on the starboard side towards the bow. They only seat two each, you'll need to split up and make a run for it."

"Put the locations up on our headsets," Fox instructed.

"I'm downloading it now," Peppy replied, "But Fox, you can't just leave the ship anymore."

"What's happening?"

"The Source got the priority gate codes from the StarFox mainframe when that thing hacked us. _Starghast _jumped through a warp gate, we only just managed to follow behind."

Everyone froze, the whites of their eyes growing to shrink their irises.

"We jumped?" Alice murmured.

"Where's the ship headed?" Fox demanded slowly, knowing there was only one answer.

"Corneria."

A type of coldness gripped Fox, smothering all other fears and questions. A singular terror far bigger than himself.

"It'll reach Cornerian space in about fifteen minutes. It could make atmospheric entry about eight minutes later."

"The ship's going to crash into the surface," Krystal said quietly, far away, looking at the ceiling, "There will be an extinction, it'll decapitate civilization. And the nanites will infect whatever survives. This is what it wanted."

She sounded calm, beyond fear.

Whatever Fox's hopes for survival, they had become secondary. Whether or not he lived was no longer the paramount concern. In a way, he was less afraid.

"We have to destroy the Source," Fox said, struggling to keep his voice steady, "Kill the infection and stop the ship before it reaches Corneria."

The scouter over his eye displayed a blinking icon to indicate a completed download, and a map of the ship appeared with a small yellow dot near the control mound of the _Starghast _and another on the starboard side of the ship towards the bow.

"What about Slippy?" Krystal inquired, "He's in no condition to come with us."

He glanced at the amphibian, cradling his wounded arm with his lower lip trembling. Then Fox looked at Krystal.

"Take him out of here," he said quietly, "Get to the escape pod on the starboard side. It looks like there's a covered walkway you can use to get there pretty quick. Take these."

He passed the incinerator to her and then handed over one of the two remaining concussion grenades clipped to his belt. The vixen took them quietly, her lips tightly shut. She didn't look at Fox, and he stared at her until she did.

"Keep both of you safe. Get on the escape pod and put him in a stasis chamber on the _Great Fox_, whatever happens to us. Don't stop until you're off this ship. You _run_, got it?"

Krystal nodded. He felt a tingle spread throughout his body as their minds touched. It left him feeling tight and fragile for a second.

Fox went over to Slippy and extended his hand, gesturing towards the pill-shaped nanocorrosion grenade attached to Slippy's belt containing the apoptosis Self-Destruct Program. The amphibian carefully took it out and handed it to Fox, who slipped it into a pocket on his jacket.

"And here I thought we wouldn't need this," Slippy murmured, "I'm glad you were right."

"I'm not," Fox whispered.

Silent tears were coming out of Slippy's blue eyes, and Fox tried to look at them instead of the bleeding, putrid bite on his hand. Fox had worked so hard to protect him for so many years. This was the result. He tried to smile, and Slippy tried to smile back. Neither of them was particularly successful.

Fox went to join Alice with her incinerator, drawing his EE-40 blaster as Krystal took Slippy by the arm and led him towards the opposite direction.

Fox met the cheetah's gaze. He still didn't know whether to trust her with the incinerator, but it didn't seem so important. Whatever surprises they had left for each other, Fox doubted that either of them were in much of a position to do anything about it.

"You know your way around the command mound?" Fox inquired.

Alice nodded.

"We find the escape pod first, kill the Source, then use it to get out."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Not an easy one. It'll know we're coming. And there's a lot of bad things hiding in these hallways."

Alice shrugged, checking her incinerator then hefting it up in the ready position. She looked at him with calm in her violet eyes.

"Then let's go kill them," she said.

Fox breathed in and glanced down the corridor, facing the cold blackness of the empty metal halls. The ceiling pressed down uncomfortably. There was not a sound, as if the _Starghast _was daring him to separate from his friends. He gripped his blaster pistol and looked back over his shoulder, meeting Krystal's aqua eyes. He remembered the first time he saw her. Fox tried to feel now the way he felt then, but he couldn't. The first words felt like pushing a boulder out of the way.

"I'm sorry for me," Fox told her, "I was too scared to love you the way you deserved."

Krystal breathed, her bottlebrush tail wafting from one side to the other. She closed her eyes for a second.

"We hurt each other," she returned quietly, "None of it matters anymore."

She turned to leave, putting her hand on Slippy's shoulder, and made it about a half step before looking back.

"For better or worse, you're the best I have," Krystal said, "Live through this."

Fox swallowed, and for just a moment they were alone.

"I can't promise."

"Try," the vixen whispered, the words soon lost among the shadows and hard edges of the corridor.

Fox answered with a single nod, then faced ahead and pulled out his flashlight, clicking it on. A pale cone of light extended a few meters ahead, illuminating dancing dust particles before yielding to the dark. Alice thrust her incinerator forward, the igniter flame hissing quietly. Following the path laid out on his scouter, Fox led Alice onward, the tapping of their footsteps echoing hollowly into the depths of the ship.

* * *

_Krazoa-khan teo naud feyura ehku zuo, drao feyura ehku luinaekuk. _For some reason the words echoed in Krystal's head, in a voice that may or may not have been her father's. It was an adage often repeated amongst her people growing up. It was what her mother told her the night they buried her baby brother, and what she'd tried to tell herself in the years since the doom of Cerinia: _The Krazoa spirits do not wish us joy, they wish us strength. _The Cerinians understood that beauty and terror existed in perfect balance in nature, that pain was an innate, necessary part of life. She found that the people of Fox's world often failed to appreciate this. So much effort was put into avoiding pain and confrontation, even talking plainly about trauma and horror was frowned upon. But Fox understood. Fox had endured his share of pain, some at her hands. He was one of the strongest people that Krystal had ever known, not because of what he could do, because of what he could _endure. _His disembodied eyes seemed to float over the shadows of the corridor, pressing her to go on and survive, even if he didn't. Only a few months ago, when she'd gone by the name Kursed, Krystal would've maintained indifference to Fox's demise. The idea that Fox would very likely die seemed almost incomprehensible.

But then again, she supposed the odds were that they were all going to die tonight.

The beam of her headset-mounted flashlight swept over the hard edges of the dark corridor ahead, and she narrowed her eyes as she held the awkwardly-weighted incinerator in her hands. The depths beyond betrayed no ambush, and in her ears all that she could hear was Slippy quietly breathing, trying not to cry as he cradled his hand. If they were swarmed, it would be difficult to protect him in this state.

Knowing it was a risk, Krystal closed her eyes and breathed deeply, reaching out with her mind. She felt the writhing black grip of the Source instantly. Its goal was so close now, she could feel the frenzied single-mindedness as it directed the ship towards the blue-green world and the life upon it. It wanted to sink and spread into the life of that world, absorb it, enrich it. Almost as if it thought it would _save _Corneria in doing so. Her heart beat faster. Was this how the doom thought as it came for her world?

Once again she felt something vaguely familiar. The agitated hive-mind seemed to notice her looking in, and started looking back.

Krystal opened her eyes and gripped the incinerator. She still couldn't tell exactly what it was. She remembered how the Aparoid Queen's mind had felt. It didn't feel like this. It was dangerous to draw its attention now that she was just alone with Slippy. A small holographic window flashed in front of her eye to show her that she was still on the right path. The hissing of her incinerator's igniter flame and Slippy's whimpers were the only sounds beside their hollow footsteps on the metal floor, and the hall was empty of anything short of shadows. Occasionally Krystal would spot a door or a branching corridor from her path; she ignored them and continued on, maintaining a latent mental connection to Slippy to make sure he was still nearby, while endeavoring against being brought down by the terror he exuded. It was cold and the air was musty but free of the distinctive stench of the monsters.

Slippy's breathing faltered. He was mumbling things under his breath, words that Krystal couldn't make out. She waited for him to stop but he just kept going and she couldn't make sense of what he was saying. It made her tense up, and she tried to swallow her fear as she looked forward into the darkness.

"Speak to me, Slippy," Krystal said lowly, her palms tightening around the incinerator's grip, "We can talk about anything. Talk about things far away from here... about Amanda."

Slippy choked, his next breath shuddering out of his mouth as if it was sucked from his lungs.

"I—I was supposed to call her after this. Sh—she-she wanted me to go on leave with her," the amphibian said, giggling morosely through his sobbing, "We were supposed to go to the house on Aquas in time for her season... she wanted to have babies. Oh! Oh God..."

A needle stuck in Krystal's heart and she turned sadly towards Slippy just in time for him to grab her arm and draw her close to his face. She instinctively glanced at the wound on his hand, now purplish-black, to make sure he wasn't bleeding on her armor before meeting his desperate gaze.

"You have to promise me you won't tell her, Krystal," Slippy begged, the cracks in his voice echoing down the hall, "I don't want her to know I died like this..."

Slippy's jaw was trembling, sweat and tears and mucous pouring out of his face, and he seemed to have trouble standing. Krystal squeezed his shoulder tightly.

"If it happens... I won't tell her," Krystal vowed, figuring he needed to hear it more than the promise to save him that Fox would've offered, "I promise."

The amphibian squeaked out another cry and nodded graciously, and his body regained some stability.

"Let's keep going," she said, turning to lead him down the hall. A few moments of silence passed, and Slippy's breathing grew choked and stuttered once again. She tried to ignore it, calling up the holographic window to check their path. They still had a ways to go, but they were nearing the entrance to the raised transparisteel-covered walkway that could take them straight to the escape pod, bypassing hundreds of meters of ambush-ready corridors.

"They—they need our bodies. Our flesh. Our bone... our blood," Slippy murmured, "They say it's what we need. It's our salvation. Evolution. We need to grow, we need to change, or else we're slowly rotting from the day we're born. Entropy. The answer is collective. Communion. They found a better way... _he _found a better way... Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God, it's _him. _It's been _him _all along oh God..."

"Who, Slippy?" Krystal asked quietly, speaking slowly to fight the dread inside her as the flashlight's beam seemed to grow dimmer and the shadows drew closer "Who is it?"

Slippy whimpered, coughing out another sob.

"He won't let me say," Slippy wept, "It's like he ripped the name out of my brain. He's making them say the same thing over and over and over and over again in my head: What is dead can never die. What is dead can never die."

"What?"

She stopped and turned to look back at Slippy. His StarFox jacket was smeared with black soot and blood, saturated with sweat. He was hugging himself and looking at his feet. He looked up at her, the blue of his eyes dwarfed by black pupils that grew slowly larger. Krystal became very aware of how tight her armor felt.

"We think of living, of being alive and then you die, then that's it. Nothing's immortal right?" Slippy stammered, his lips trembling, "But you can only die once. When you're dead you can't die again. But if... if we change, if we evolve, if we join them in communion, we only have to die once. They died. He died. It's just a little pain... just once. Like being born all over again. Then we're a part of them. A part of him. And even though we're dead, we're _not _dead, because we're together. Don't you see? What is dead... can never die. What is dead can never die."

Krystal's mouth was dry, and she took a step towards him. The tapping of her feet felt painfully loud echoing down the hall. Slippy looked into the wall as if looking out a window.

"Slippy..."

"What is dead can never die..." Slippy whispered. Blood trickled out of his wound, in between his fingers and onto the floor with an audible _tab-ta-tab-tabbb _sound. Krystal couldn't be sure but it almost looked like the ragged bite was pulsating ever so slightly. If it were anyone else but Slippy she might've incinerated him right there.

His head snapped at her, his pupils so large that his eyes were nearly all black. He let out a sharp gasp that echoed down the hall, then hissed, "They're coming."

A hollow rumble traveled up the halls and Krystal started as glowpanels in the walls buzzed to life and fell dark again. Dim emergency lights lit the hallway with a scarlet glow, and vents in the walls and ceiling erupted with geysers of white vapor every few dozen meters.

"_Shianta_," she cursed, fingers digging into the incinerator.

"Do you hear that?" Slippy stammered, shivering as his pupils shrank a bit.

Krystal ignored him, quickly checking the route. The holographic window appeared over her eye and she noticed it was getting hotter, humid and wet like inside of an enormous mouth. Ice water rushed through her veins and she could hear her heart pumping loudly in her ears. She gritted her teeth and focused, sweat pouring through her azure hair. It was another seventy five meters, then a left turn down a T-junction and about fifty more meters. The entrance to the walkway was in a large five-way junction of hallways on the ship. The window flashed away and she gripped the incinerator, breathing humid, warm air. She couldn't be sure if the sound she heard was the hissing jets of vapor or something else.

"YOU DON'T HEAR THAT?!" Slippy screamed, "Oh God, make it stop! Kill me! Just fucking kill me!"

Rattling howls pierced the corridor and Krystal's long tail stiffened as she turned and grabbed Slippy's arm, dragging him down the hall. Her arms burned with the weight of the heavy incinerator in one arm and the burden of pulling Slippy by the other, but after a moment he started to run next to her through a jet of vapor, breathing and crying as a roar echoed behind them through the red haze.

"I—don't wanna—do this anymore! Kill me, please!"

"Shut it!" Krystal snapped, gasping for breath as the pounding of her feet into the floor traveled up her legs. She swung the incinerator back and forth, huffing with exhaustion and terror, every squealing hiss and hollow roar digging into her like claws in her back. The red glow and white steam made it even harder to see than the darkness and shadows had, but she kept running forward into the haze because there was nowhere else to run. Her throat and eyes felt dry and raw even though the air was foggy and warm, her lungs on fire and acid in her knees. She was sprinting so hard through the murky red glow that she nearly ran face-first into the wall of the T-junction, skidding to a stop to catch her breath and suddenly realizing she was all alone. Her heart trembled, gripped by a disembodied fist in her chest, and her grip on the incinerator shook as another howl reached her ears. The smell was in her nostrils, the sweet-vomit stench of slime and decay that she'd come to know so well, filling her chest, tickling her gag reflex, and she could feel tremors in the floor as something charged her direction. She aimed her flamethrower down the way she came, finger on the trigger, hands numb with tension, and nearly torched Slippy as he burst through a jet of vapor, waddle-running and hyperventilating so hard that he drooled.

Krystal cried out and grabbed his arm, pulling him down the left turn and they ran together, Slippy half sobbing and half giggling as Krystal's breaths came out in loud heaving moans. Something with a very powerful throat roared at them from the depths of the red glow, a rattling gurgled cry that could've been hundreds of meters away or right behind them. Krystal gasped and galloped faster, pulling Slippy even though he was slowing down, pulling so hard she thought his arm might tear out of his shoulder.

"I can't...! I can't I can't!"

Krystal tugged harder, yelling with the effort as the floor began to tremble and a dull buzz of noise behind them grew into a distinct cacophony of alien barks and squeals and moans. She took breaths in gulps and grunted loudly with every exhale, bounding down the metal floors frantically.

"We're almost there!" she cried, seeing the corridor terminate in the red haze ahead, tearing down the path into the opening, into the five-way junction,"We're almost..."

All of the vitality and energy drained out of her legs as she passed through the veil of white mist into the junction, and Krystal might've fallen into the floor if her back hadn't gone tight and stiff. The air slipped out of her lungs and for a moment all that she could hear was the hissing of her incinerator and her heart thumping in her ears. Her fingers were gripped too tightly on the flamethrower to tremble, so her arms seemed to do it instead. She didn't know which exit led to the walkway, she wasn't even thinking about it. She wasn't really thinking about the horde that might've been chasing after them seconds before, either. Her cyan eyes, swollen and wide looked around the space slowly as her jaw hung loose, taking dry and quiet breaths through her mouth. She could hear Slippy snort-wheezing breath after breath and she was terrified he might wake them.

Bodies littered the wide circular space of the hallway junction. They were of various races and sizes but most were naked or in rag-like remains of uniforms, and almost all were face-down on the floor. It looked like they'd been there for a long time. There was no blood on the walls, no stains of blaster fire or signs of struggle; they had all clearly been moved there to this choke point on the ship. If they had been landmines instead of bodies, it would've been a very effective booby trap. Krystal kept turning in a complete circle, taking in the dozens of them that were scattered all around.

Her mouth was parched, her tail stiff. Slippy kept choking down petrified breaths. She looked down the way they came and saw deformed silhouettes moving towards them through the scarlet haze. Some subconscious part of her brain took her hand off the incinerator's stock and put it to her headset, flashing the holographic route map over her eye, pointing out the exit to take. She glanced at it slowly and saw an airlock doorframe that opened up into a set of steep, narrow stairs leading up.

Krystal was surprised to find it open after so many closed doors on this ship. She still couldn't will her foot to take a step towards the exit, even as the shapes of the horde coming down the hallways grew more distinct. They were approaching slowly, quietly, as if they knew she wasn't running.

There was a wet crunch of movement as a brown-furred canine with hideous gashes in his back moved his arm, his fingers twitching like a live crab pulled from a bucket of ice. It pressed against the floor and pushed itself up as another arm moved. More crunching, cracking noises of stiff joints and ragged muscles as more bodies stirred, pushing up from the floor, giving off hollow, hissing yawns. They all looked at her as they picked their faces up from the floor, avian beaks and canine jaws and feline teeth all dripping with pinkish foam. The empty black eyes of some of them oozed with a yellow custard discharge.

Slippy shuddered with horror as they slowly brought themselves up to their knees, sprouting black talons from their fingertips to tear at the back of their necks, digging under their flesh and ripping it apart. Their skins sloughed off their bodies as if they were disrobing, exposing shiny pink and whitish muscle tissue interspersed with veins of black and green and purple, glistening in the scarlet glow of the emergency lights. The dozens of bodies came to their feet, moaning emptily as their flesh rippled and bones cracked and rearranged and muscle fibers tore free to grow into whipping pink tendrils and a switch went off in Krystal's brain and she squeezed the trigger on the incinerator.

A whooshing roar broke the relative silence as a bloom of orange flames lit up the room, and Krystal held the trigger down, sweeping in a three-quarter circle around them, yelling furiously in response to the creatures' howls. Her face felt hot and she heard chirping screams, her eyes filled with limbs writhing through the flames, then Slippy wailed and she whirled around to face whatever it was between them and the exit. A skinless feline with a meter-long neck came at her and Krystal let out a controlled burst, then set fire to a glistening hairless enhydra with needle teeth and bouquets of flabby tentacles for hands. Both creatures tumbled backwards, setting fire to others nearby, and the fur on Krystal's exposed face and tail felt like it might ignite from all the heat. Slippy yelled something as she grabbed onto his blood-smeared jacket but she couldn't hear it over the crackling flames and screaming monsters. She dragged him into a sprint towards the exit, dodging in between flaming creatures as others tried to move around to reach them without catching ablaze. Shoving Slippy through the airlock door, she felt something lash around her ankle and screamed aloud, grabbing the plasma cutter clipped to her side with her left hand. The blue plasma blade came to life with a harsh whine and she sliced into the tendril around her foot, snapping free and charging up the cramped, claustrophobic stairwell close behind Slippy as the creatures screamed. Her knees might've ached as she tore up the stairs but she wouldn't have noticed a stab in the gut with all the adrenaline and terror. She reached the top, joining the amphibian in the oval-shaped tube of transparisteel, and for a second she was awestruck by the sight: Just past the raised walkway's transparent metal covering was the great brown-gray durasteel mass of the CRV _Starghast_, the outcroppings and ugly fixtures of the ship stretching out like a small city, while above and all around the massive vessel was the rainbow sheen over white of the warp gate tunnel.

Then the roars from the stairwell behind anchored her into the moment. Krystal backed away from the stairwell entrance, and next to her Slippy trembled as his pupils dilated. He gripped the sides of his head as dark blood poured out of his bite.

"Ohhhhhh gggggoddddd I can hear them," he murmured, "They want me to die. They want us all to die. Dying's the only way to make it stop make it stop."

"Come on!" Krystal snapped, grabbing Slippy by the elbow as they took off down the walkway, passing other exits back down into the ship as hollow screams bounced around the transparisteel covering up to them. The holographic window flashed in front of her eyes and she glanced at the distance. There were about eleven exits back down into the ship between them and the exit they wanted, about a hundred meters straight down the path.

Gasping raggedly for air, Krystal pounded down the walkway, counting the exits and minding how close the pursuing screams sounded. They made it past four, running through the pain in their limbs, coming up on the fifth, then Slippy cried out "I just want it to stop I want it to stop just lemme make it stop—AHHHHH!"

Slippy's scream tensed her arms and something too big to be made up of any one person stretched a bloated arm out of the fifth exit, reaching for them with claws like tusks and writhing pink feelers. Krystal sent a blast of fire up and down the arm, pushing Slippy frantically past it and glancing at the read-out on the incinerator to see nineteen percent fuel remaining. She looked over her shoulder, past the burning arm where the walkway flooded with creatures only a dozen meters behind, and the snapping of spidery legs off the massive flaming arm put her back into a run. An eerie giggling sound behind her grew frighteningly close as they passed the seventh exit and Krystal whipped around to see a ragged creature that had once been a leporid, little more than a meaty skeleton with talons on its hands and a long whipping tongue, sprinting towards her faster than the rest of the horde. It dove at her, lunging meters through the air and Krystal threw herself out of the way into the transparisteel wall. She blasted fire into the wall and the creature flew into it, tumbling to the ground in flames and writhing around, screaming in a voice that was frighteningly normal. Twelve percent fuel remaining, and the howling horde charged closer.

She sprinted over the burning leporid body, leaping through the flames and running with Slippy towards the eighth exit. He wailed about the voices in his head.

The floor shuddered as they neared the tenth exit and the tunnel of white around the ship ripped away, replaced by the familiar black field of stars. Framed in view was Corneria, a beautiful blue and green orb in the void, serene and oblivious to the terror speeding its way. Krystal almost didn't notice it, sprinting hard down the walkway behind Slippy, almost shoving him to move faster as his cries grew louder. The moment they passed the eleventh exit Slippy choked and turned on his heel, waving his arms and running at the horde screaming "Take me! TAKE ME MAKE IT STOP!"

There was no thought in Krystal's movements, only instinct. Her boots squealed to a stop as she whirled around, clothes-lining Slippy hard in the face with the incinerator, then roaring out and swinging at the charging creatures. Fire swept into the horde, igniting the creatures in front, stalling the rest of them as they clawed their way around. The concussion grenade was in Krystal's left hand, thumb stabbing down on the button and she flung it into the snarling mass, then grabbed Slippy's collar and hauled him to his feet as blood streamed down his chest from busted nose and lips. Practically throwing Slippy down the stairs of the twelfth exit, hearing the creatures scream after her, Krystal's shoulders were just going through the open airlock door frame when it happened.

The explosion was only audible as a split-second cracking pop, then a shatter of transparisteel before the whirling howl of the ship's oxygen blowing out to space. Dozens of invisible arms hauled Krystal back through the airlock as her elbow smashed into the control panel and the door slammed down. The back of her skull whiplashed into the door and she slid down with her teeth gritted in pain, feeling dizzy and taking a moment to feel thankful the airlock hadn't chopped her tail off.

She faltered back to her feet, staggering for balance, checking the fuel readout. It was blinking orange and her eyes focused enough to make out five percent left. Slippy was on his hands and knees, sobbing as tears mixed with the blood streaming down his face. Part of her wondered how many tears he could possibly have left after crying for so many hours.

The sweet-vomit smell filled her breath as she took in the red haze of the corridor. Just up ahead she could see it, the almost circular entrance to the escape pod. Growls reached her ears, and the floor rattled. Twisted silhouettes faded in through the haze at both sides.

Grunting with ragged breaths, she wrapped her arm around Slippy's and dragged him slowly across the floor towards the escape pod entrance. He wasn't even moving to get up now, even though claws were bursting through vents and floor panels all around. She could feel her strength giving out after running so hard, now that her goal was in sight. The circular opening loomed closer, and she could make out a cramped cylindrical space with seats on each side in the shadows of the escape pod.

She was almost there.

Almost there.

Slippy's whimpering, bleeding body was in the escape pod, not secure in a chair but good enough. Her senses dulled by exhaustion, she felt herself turn around slowly, dreamlike, to press the button on the inside of the pod, barely registering the malformed shadow on the wall.

Krystal faced the thing in the doorway, a mangled male vulpine that looked almost like Fox, with a bloody red gape in place of its lower jaw and a pair of barb-tipped tentacles sticking out of its shoulders, held erect like scorpion tails.

She raised the incinerator but a tentacle lanced into her so hard she was sure it staked her through the heart. The impact flung her against the wall of the pod, screaming as her hand squeezed the trigger. Flames blasted out and enveloped the creature, driving it back with a chirping scream before the incinerator burped and died, the fuel spent. The air knocked out of her lungs, Krystal dropped the incinerator on the floor and staggered towards the pod doorway, feeling the plating over her chest. The strike had chipped the advanced composites, but the armor had held. She weakly collapsed into the wall and punched the control panel, watching fox-creature writhe and burn and other twisted shapes reach for her before the airlock door slammed down.

An automated voice warned her to secure herself in a seat as the door pounded with heavy impacts from the creatures on the other side, then she felt a jerk and a dull roar of engines as the pod launched.

Krystal slid down the wall, moaning out each breath, curling up against the door and whispering "Done... done... I didn't stop... it's done."

She was trying not to cry from the mix of relief and terror washing over her, and almost didn't notice Slippy picking himself off the floor, facing her. Blood streamed down his face, his bite mark pulsating and his pupils swollen so that his eyes looked completely black.

"Join with us. Join _him_," Slippy croaked, "What is dead can never die. What is dead can never die."

Slippy's arms came up and he pounced, Krystal screaming and lashing out with a kick that threw the amphibian into the wall of the pod. He thudded against the wall and came right back for her, mouth open in a silent scream and his arms outstretched. Krystal batted his arms away and stabbed the injector gun into his neck with a shout, watching the clear blue fluid drain out of the vial.

Slippy gurgled and his pupils shrank, and he stumbled backwards before collapsing onto the floor. He jerked once or twice, then he lay still.

Krystal climbed into one of the chairs against the wall of the pod, strapping herself in as she breathed in half-sobs. She couldn't take her eyes off Slippy's body, she didn't trust it anymore. She had no weapons, and even if she did, she was trapped in a very close space with him, floating amid the void until someone picked her up.

Words surfaced from the back of her mind, a prayer that she was once taught. She may have last said it months ago, when she was bleeding near to death after an encounter with Leon Powalski. The death-prayer of her people was the one she knew the best. It was burned into the back of her mind the day she watched her world die.

_Blessed Krazoa spirits hear my prayer, I stand in the company of the dark stranger. Give me the strength to see the dark stranger as an old friend, for he will join me with you spirits. _

It felt better in her native tongue.

Krystal hugged herself and began to recite the words, hearing them come huskily out of her own mouth shaky at first: "_Pe-pe'mahkukuate Krazoa-khan... Eh kudaiyat ehya dra baenahcah'la uev'e dra kedenae'hakukrahnn..._"

All the while, she kept her eyes on Slippy's body, just to make sure it didn't move.

It didn't.


	10. The Final Nightmare

**-The Final Nightmare-**

Peppy barely noticed when the _Great Fox _dropped out of the warp gate into Cornerian space; he and Falco had their hands full scrambling from workstation to workstation to pilot the _Dreadnaught-_class cruiser. Dread seized his chest when he looked through the viewport at the rear of the _Starghast, _engines glowing white edging towards his approaching blue homeworld. His fingers pounded across the keys of the engineering console, re-directing power to the sublight drive as Falco wrestled with the helm controls, pushing the ship closer. Message alerts from the communications console whistled out as hails from the Cornerian Commerce Ministry and nearby ships attempted to contact them, prompting them to decelerate for atmospheric approach. He considered how strong the _Starghast_'s shields might be, if they could destroy the engines and stop any further acceleration, when an egg-shaped object trailing gray vapor erupted from the side of the ghost ship and streaked across the black. Alarms squawked and holographic rangefinder icons drew over the object, and Peppy didn't know whether to feel panic or relief at the sight of the escape pod.

"Who's on it? Tell me someone's on it, Peppy!" Falco snapped from the helm, grinding the throttle upwards.

Scrambling away from the engineering station and grabbing the console screen mounted on the command chair, Peppy called up the sensor suite and targeted the pod for a bioscan. A glowing circle around the rangefinder icon filled up and lines of data rained down the screen, which Peppy skimmed with frenzied eyes.

"I've got life signs!" Peppy barked as his comlink crackled with static. One of his ears flicked through the air at the sound of Krystal's plush voice, trembling and hoarse with fear.

"I-is someone there?"

"Krystal tell me that's you in the pod."

"It—it's me. I have Slippy, he's in here with me. I...I had to sedate him. He's not right and he's in here with me. He—he could change any moment."

Peppy and Falco's eyes met as the breaths left their mouths.

"Get in the shuttle and grab her; I'll snag the pod with the tractor beam then prep the stasis chamber in the med-bay. Go!" Peppy commanded, calling up the tractor beam interface as Falco set the ship on auto-pilot to follow the _Starghast_.

The avian shot out of his chair and put a feathered finger to his headset, nearly tripping over ROB's body as he scrambled for the doors.

"It's Falco I'm on the way."

"I'm very... frightened at the moment," Krystal breathed over the comlink.

"Stay on the line an' keep talkin' princess, I'm comin' to get ya," Falco called as the doors hissed shut behind him.

A message confirming a tractor beam lock on the escape pod flashed over the screen and Peppy spun towards the door, ignoring loud message alerts from the communications console. The alerts grew uncharacteristically loud, and as the doors slid open for Peppy he heard a click and a light whurr. He glanced over his shoulder and was saw the holoprojectors light up, drawing a dull green unicursal hexagram that Peppy recognized as the insignia of the Commonwealth Security Bureau. The hexagram disappeared, replaced by the hologram of a thin white she-wolf standing with both hands flat on a slab-like desk. Her golden eyes were swollen and her lips curled in a furious grin of sharp teeth.

"Which part of 'keep me in the loop' was hard to grasp?" Gillian Morrow demanded, her shoulders arched painfully, "I just told the PM this situation was under control. Your incompetence is _staggering_."

"Our gate codes were compromised, I didn't have time to tell you-"

"I don't have a _choice_ any more, Hare," Morrow growled, "That ship is a threat to Corneria; it's nearing the upper atmosphere. I've mobilized my Enforcement Fleet to destroy it before impact."

"Fox and your agent are still aboard, they can stop it all if you give them time!" Peppy sent back.

"There _is _no time!" Morrow snapped, "They both knew the risks and accepted them, and the lives on Corneria take priority. I will _not _permit another Aparoid infestation of the capitol."

"If you blow that ship and a piece makes it to the surface, that's exactly what happens! They can kill the infection if we let them."

"And if the ship hits the surface _intact_? It's a two kilometer durasteel brick moving at hypersonic speed; we're talking a crater the size of Pennopolis and deaths in the _billions_. There's no easy choice, but this way there's a Corneria left to fight for."

"Listen to me! They can stop it, they're almost there!"

"It isn't my call anymore."

"MORROW!"

Peppy's teeth were bared, his hands tightened in painful fists. He stared the golden-eyed wolf down, his heart throbbing with tension. The globe of Corneria filled the _Great Fox_'s viewport, and far off one might be able to see the tiny shapes of starships flying casually as if everything was fine. Morrow's mouth closed and she looked to the side for only an instant.

"Six minutes and fifteen seconds," Morrow breathed, shaking her head "They have until then. When the ship drops thirty kilometers above the surface I'm having it blown out of the sky."

The she-wolf's lower jaw quivered, as if the enunciation required more effort than expected. Her facial features were loose and the sheen of frigid indifference had melted from her golden eyes.

Peppy nodded curtly, almost thought to thank her, but the hologram flickered away. He spoke forcefully into his headset as he stormed through the bridge doors.

* * *

The corridors stretched in front of Fox dark and quiet, with nothing save for metal floors and wafting dust particles illuminated in his flashlight beam. He was taken aback at how far he and Alice had gone without being attacked; according to the scouter over his eye they were drawing close to the escape pod entrance in the command mound. More than halfway to the VIRGIS mainframe, and the Source along with it. The air was humid and warm and it reeked with the sweet-vomit smell, smothering his fur like a soaked blanket and clogging his nostrils. It was almost worse than hearing the creatures scream down the hall after him; he couldn't help thinking that scores of them waited silently around a corner or under a nearby floor. Perhaps that was why Fox hadn't talked to or even looked at Alice, the whole time since separating from Krystal and Slippy. He heard her footsteps and the hiss of the igniter flame next to him, and that was good enough. He tried not to think of his teammates. He kept his mind on Corneria, the lush cradle of interstellar civilization with billions that would never see another sunrise if he couldn't protect it. Nothing mattered more than the blue-green world, it was more important than his life, more important than fear.

If Fox kept telling himself that, he might make it true. Sweat ran through the fur over his neck, under his arms and his skin felt cold despite the warmth of the air. His stomach was tight and it felt like his lungs were gripped by unyielding fingers as his light snapped over sharp corners and shadowy depths.

They turned a corner and the route in Fox's scouter showed him that the escape pod access hatch was straight down the hall from them. The clicking of his boots into the metal floor almost covered the sound of Alice clearing her throat.

"So..." the feline trailed off, "Krystal back there. She was in love with you, wasn't she?"

Fox exhaled through his nose with a grimace, only half because of the sweet-vomit smell.

"Once upon a time," he muttered, his eyes locked forward.

Alice made a small noise and let a few beats pass.

"I'm guessing there was no happily ever after?"

He finally looked back at her. Her violet eyes were polished in the dimness, her brow twitching coyly as a soft, sympathetic smirk slid across her muzzle. Fox couldn't find anything in her expression that was authentic enough to inspire trust.

"That doesn't happen much for people like us," he replied, continuing on. He felt her eyes on his back, and his thumb absentmindedly stroked along the handgrip of his pistol.

"I know what you mean," Alice murmured, her wistful voice echoing around the empty hallway, "You and I have that in common, I think. We live the life that makes sense to us, but that doesn't mean it's easy or happy. When we come across something, or someone, that makes us happy we put so much of ourselves into it, because we haven't known much joy. And when something threatens those things, those people, we can do things we normally wouldn't. Things like rationality, patriotism, don't seem to matter so much. People like us can go a little crazy over the people we care about, you know?"

If his mind wasn't dominated by thoughts of his homeworld in danger and creatures lurking in the dark, Fox might have recalled anger over James McCloud's death blinding him during his first battles with StarWolf, or how Krystal had spent a year as the vengeance-bound Kursed. Instead of dwelling on these things, however, Fox just muttered, "Are you getting at something?"

"Miyu," Alice replied, "Just thinking of her. I knew her better than anyone. I know she's not the person that would do this."

"She _did. _We all saw it. And if she somehow didn't, we probably won't find out tonight."

A low grinding reverberated up the hallway and thin glowpanels in the walls lit up, blazing bright for a moment then fading to a sickly dim yellow. Fox's muscles tensed and they both waited for something else to happen, but nothing did. A few dozen meters down the hallway he could see the circular access hatch of the escape pod on the left. They walked towards it, step by step, cautious eyes turned towards any nearby doors or branching corridors. Fox wondered if he would ever stop smelling the sweet-vomit stench.

"What are you going to do with that footage of her taking the core memory?" Alice probed.

"Now's not the time to talk this over," Fox grunted, edging towards the escape pod. Something in his gut told him there was something waiting for him there.

"Now's the _only _time to talk this over. Either we die or we win, and when that happens you won't be willing to talk about this. Right now, you need my help to save everyone. Right now, I'm the one with the flamethrower."

Fox slowed his pace, peering over his shoulder. If he needed to, could he spin around and blast her between the eyes before she burned him? He was fast… but not that fast.

"What are you asking for?" Fox inquired slowly.

"If that footage gets released, to Helix or the CSB, they'll brand Miyu a traitor. I won't be able to find out what happened to her on my own; she'll be hunted and I could be one of the people sent after her. I won't let that happen lying down."

Staring carefully down the hallway first, Fox swept his flashlight beam over the murky, open interior of the small escape pod. There was nothing inside. Alice took a few steps closer to Fox, and he stepped back. Her incinerator hissed roughly, the business end aimed at his legs.

"The company paid me to find the truth behind all this," Fox said calmly, his blaster pointed towards the floor, "That footage has the truth. It proves Helix Biotech didn't do this themselves."

"Screw the company," Alice hissed, "All they care about is their quarterly statement. They were fine sending you here to die just for the chance to save face and some money. They were playing with something they didn't understand, and the nanites would've gotten out sooner or later."

"This isn't sooner or later," Fox whispered, "This is about what _happened_. It's not on you to protect Miyu from the fallout of her decisions, and this was always bigger than you and her. We need to go."

"That isn't good enough."

Alice's grip tightened around the incinerator and she nudged it up towards his stomach. Fox's tail went stiff, but he put cold anger on his face.

"The whole _world _is on the line and this is what you're doing?"

Vertical slit pupils sharpened in the cheetah's violet eyes.

"Miyu _is _my world. I've tried to make other things matter, but they don't. There's two ways this happens: You destroy that footage, now, and I help you save the planet. Or you refuse, I take the escape pod and leave you. The ship hits Corneria and there's no CSB left to chase Miyu. Think about it, but not for too long. Like you said, there's a time crunch."

Fox's nostrils flared, looking over Alice's face. The dim yellow lights cast shadows over her spotted fur, giving her a sallow look. Her tail was arched on a hair trigger, and she seemed to know that she stood between him and the escape pod entrance. Hot blood coursed through his veins and he felt his flight suit cling to his body, damp with sweat.

His headset crackled and Peppy's voice called out his name, loud enough for Alice to hear.

The pistol came up and Alice kicked it out of his hand. He heard it clatter across the floor as he shoved the incinerator and cracked a fist across her cheek. The flamethrower's fuel tank rammed into his gut, knocking the wind out and Alice swung the flaming barrel. He grabbed at the weapon and kicked her ankle as Alice's fingertips jabbed bladelike into his throat. Fox hit the wall gagging, hand fumbling with a pouch on his jacket and he wildly kicked the side of the flamethrower. Alice staggered and a burst of flame belched down the hall; she swung and he dodged under. He grabbed her ears, headbutted between her eyes, and she cried out as hair extensions flew around her head. Fox caught her throat and stabbed an injector gun under her chin. The double dose of Zydrate sedative coursed out of the vial.

Alice's eyes bulged with disbelief and she pushed against him with the incinerator, but Fox held a left hand on the weapon and pushed harder. The legs buckled under the CSB spy and the incinerator tumbled out of her arms as she reached for his neck. They made it up to his breastbone before her arms trembled and then slid down his chest, feebly grabbing at the folds of his green flight suit.

"Muthufuhhhck..." she slurred, eyes glazing over as she dropped to her knees, still reaching for him. He kept the injector gun in her neck a few more moments before tugging it out and tossing it. Alice's head slumped into her shoulder and she finally hit the floor, drool pouring from the corner of her mouth. She tried to lift her hand, but only got so far before her arm fell back down. Dull violet eyes looked up at him, pupils dilating, then they rolled into the back of her head and her lids closed.

Fox breathed in hard and exhaled through his nose, retrieving his EE-40 blaster and holstering it before grabbing his flashlight and claiming the incinerator at his feet.

He checked the fuel read-out and found twenty four percent fuel capacity remaining. He stared down at Alice's unconscious body.

He'd never been able to trust her.

Even now, he didn't know if she was really a person or not. On the chance that she was, he wasn't about to leave her to die. But he couldn't carry her with him...

He glanced at the escape pod entrance, and he remembered what Alice had said about escape being a mirage. There was a stony tenseness that seized all of Fox's limbs, then a wave of almost-euphoria as he accepted it. It was a choice he'd prepared for his entire life.

Peppy's voice came over the comm as Fox was dragging Alice into the escape pod.

"Fox, are you there?"

"Yeah, Peppy. I'm here."

"Krystal got out with Slippy, Falco's on his way to get her now."

"That's good. Make sure she's safe."

"The ship's come out of the warp gate, there isn't much time. Morrow's mobilizing the CSB fleet to destroy the ship before it hits. You've got less than six minutes to kill the Source and get on the escape pod out of there."

"Six minutes, got it," Fox nodded quietly, surprised at his calm. He pressed the button on the inside of the pod entrance and slipped back into the hall as the airlock door hissed closed. The corridor walls trembled with a rumbling hiss of engines as the pod launched away.

"The pod's not an option any more, though."

"...what?" Peppy choked out.

"I jettisoned it. Alice is aboard. I couldn't trust her, I had to dose her. Couldn't kill her either, I didn't know if she was infected or not. It was the only solution I could think of on the fly."

"But what about _you_?!" Peppy roared.

Fox didn't answer immediately, cracking his neck and lifting the incinerator, feeling the heft in his arms. His heart was thumping in his chest, but it seemed distant and irrelevant.

"I won't let this ship hurt anyone else. That's all that matters," Fox said into the microphone, "It's actually better this way. If I'm not worried about surviving, fear's not an issue. Liberating, really."

"Don't talk like that!" Peppy snarled, his voice cracking, "We'll get you out."

"There's no way out," Fox said, "It's okay. I'm not afraid anymore."

"FOX!" Peppy shouted, "You can't give up!"

"Not giving up. I'm making sure the job's done. Thank you for everything, Peppy. Fox out."

Peppy kept shouting over the comm, but Fox breathed and severed the connection with a press of a button on his headset. He tried to swallow but his mouth was dry. His fingers felt numb, so he gripped onto the incinerator maybe tighter than he needed to. The corridor stretched ahead, dim and yellow, with pale vapor hissing slowly out of vents in the walls and the ceiling. According to his scouter, he only needed to go straight ahead into the haze. Fox licked his lips and started forward, his feet tapping into the metal floors. The humid warmth and the sweet-vomit stench wrapped around him, and his ears twitched with every tiny sound.

Was that faint creaking merely the noise of the ship settling as it sank into the planet's gravity well? A metal ship component fell out of the wall somewhere, echoing loudly down the corridor.

His heart thudded in his chest, but not with fear. It couldn't be fear. If he was going down with the ship no matter what, why would he be afraid? It had to be excitement. Adrenaline. A physical reaction, his body following commands he hadn't given, that was all. He ground his teeth together, breaths coming quicker, and he picked up the pace.

"Come on… come on…" Fox hissed, glaring at the neurotically sharp bulkheads framing the yellow haze. He really did hate this ship, every millimeter, now that he thought of it. The designer of the _Starghast _must have been an asshole of catastrophic proportions. To hell with Saru and R.J. McMurdo and anyone else that talked of the ship's purpose for research and long term habitation: The _Starghast _was built for horror. If he had to die today, he was glad this damned place was going with him.

"Come on now, you wanted me… No playing around, here I am. Come on."

The floor trembled in response and Fox tensed. He bared his teeth to the haze. Howls erupted down the hall and the rumbling of their stampede bounced off the sharp bulkheads. They were coming, they were coming fast. One moment they were a tangled mass of silhouettes in the mist and the next they were a packed horde of screaming jaws and razor talons and squirming tentacles, dozens of twisted shapes rushing towards him in a wave of shining, putrid flesh. He didn't even raise the incinerator, green eyes alight with fury as he unclipped the last grenade from his belt. The roars blasted up the corridor, ringing in Fox's ears and tousling his fur.

"Yeah, fuck you too!" Fox spat, pressing the button and hurling the grenade at the feet of the horde. The gray cylinder tumbled across the floor and Fox's hand slapped his reflector device. A hexagonal blue shield flashed in front of him and the creatures squealed as the cracking explosion tore through Fox's ears and white light burned his eyes. There was a shriek like a plasma engine as the reflector shield rippled with the stress, heat and pressure pushing against his fur as the field sent the full force of the blast into the creatures. He opened his eyes and the shield shimmered as it faded away, revealing a scorched corridor ahead coated with blood, entrails, and quivering body parts. Not a single creature of the horde remained intact.

Fox charged ahead, grinning viciously and swinging his incinerator back and forth, stomping a squirming hand into the floor. The haze wrapped around him and he began to slow, noticing the yellow glow panels growing brighter. Instead of improving visibility, the yellow light reflected off the ever-present white mist, obscuring everything more than a few meters away. Doors and turns in the corridor would emerge from the depths but Fox trundled on ahead, ignoring the sound of his heartbeat in his ears and trying to make out the other sound that he knew he wasn't just imagining.

Echoing through the mist and off sharp tunnels, sometimes just below perception, Fox could hear a tiny voice whispering something, almost chanting, over and over again. It was the same childish voice they'd all heard earlier, wandering through the halls, only this time it wasn't babbling or crying. Over and over again, it whispered "_Over here… over here over here over here over here_."

One moment the whisper would be right in Fox's ear and the next it would be just down the hall, barely audible. His shoulders were tight and he slowed almost to a stop as he came to a four-way juncture. Each path looked exactly the same, a curtain of glowing yellow mist framed in a sharp, low hanging corridor arch. If he didn't have his scouter telling him which direction to go, it would've been very easy to choose the wrong path. He knew it was a mistake to stop, he knew the voice _wanted _him to stop.

"_Over here over here over here_" the voice went on. How long had it been since Peppy had given him the six-minute warning? Fox couldn't tell. Was the ship already burning its way through Corneria's atmosphere? The mist seemed to be getting thicker, he couldn't see his feet touching the floor.

"_Over here over here over here over here…over here…_"

Fox took a step ahead, digging his nails into the incinerator, the igniter flame hissing as the voice went on and on, whispering, on and on and on.

_"Over here!" _

Something coiled around Fox's ankle and a loud shriek burst from the mist as he fell, cursing.

A female reptilian covered in sores with four mangled arms growing out of her back tore out of the haze, mouth splitting open red and lined with teeth. Fox yelled as his ass hit the floor, bringing the incinerator up and producing a weak burp of flame. An arm latched on the incinerator and tugged it away, Fox pulling back as the reptilian's mouth snapped onto his left arm. His screams rattled through the bulkheads as teeth ripped through cloth, into his flesh, blood soaking hotly into his fur. He tore the plasma cutter off his belt and the blue blade whined to life, stabbing into the creature's jaw and slicing upwards. Blood spilled across the metal and Fox couldn't tell who it belonged to, roaring as the reptilian thrashed her teeth deeper into his arm. Fox's howl blared loud in his ears as he sliced all the way around, cutting the top of the jaws off and tearing them free of his arm. The top half of the head came away with a wet sucking sound, his hand drenched in red as tiny pink worms writhed out of the oozing gape. More blood stained Fox's clothes, hot and sticky as the creature drew back, spurting red from its steaming stump. Ignoring the burning sting, Fox fell back and hefted up the incinerator with one hand, blasting the reptilian. The six-armed creature let out a gurgling wail as crackling flames burst around its body, limbs flapping. Fox roared until his throat was raw, hobbling to his feet and blasting the thing again, watching it fall to the ground and burn for a moment before he stumbled and nearly collapsed into the wall.

His face twisted with anguish, his left arm soaked in blood as a stinging, acid sensation traveled up into his shoulder. He glanced at his torn, mangled flesh for a second and let out a groan that morphed into a bellow of outrage, forcing the pain and fear down in his gut where he could contain it. Fox grunted out his next few breaths, spitting furiously at the burning creature's body, then forced himself to take a step forward. He staggered for a few steps and caught his balance, willing his left hand to grab the end of the incinerator for support. Moving the arm made it burn even more, and Fox moaned loudly, gritting his teeth. The burning was beginning to seize his whole arm, almost as if the limb had fallen asleep except far more painful. His blood dribbled onto the metal floor with an audible tinkle, but he forced himself to keep going. He had to go on. It didn't matter anymore, as long as he stopped the Source. The ship could have him, but Fox would put every last breath towards making sure he was the _Starghast_'s final meal.

Fox hoofed it forward, grinding his teeth through the pain. Whatever fear was left in him had boiled into fury.

"That's how it's going to be, huh?" Fox grunted with a glare at the torn bite on his arm, looking at the ceiling and hollering "Well what's next?! What's next?! I'm right here!"

He stared ahead and kept moving, not expecting an answer. It was only after a few moments that he realized it had been going the whole time, masked by his breathing and bleeding and the heartbeat in his ears: A very light, very slow rhythm, rising up and falling down, rising up and falling down, broad and encompassing as if seeping from the walls of the ship itself. The gentle rhythm continued, rising up and falling down, and he remembered hearing it far away from here on the bridge of his own ship. It was the same hollow breathing sound, only much clearer and present. Painted on the wall was an arrow pointing forward with the words VIRGIS Central Mainframe Core, and Fox's lower lip quivered as the corridor widened in front of him, lined with small flatscreen consoles on both sides of the wall every few meters. They flickered to life for split-seconds as the _Starghast _breathed in and breathed out, flashing the same wide face with yellow pinprick eyes that had glared at them from screens throughout the night. Only now did Fox sense something familiar, like a childhood nightmare he'd long forgotten. The burning ache in his arm endured as his blood trickled to the floor, but it felt somehow disconnected from Fox as the ship breathed around him.

He'd been given warning signs. The Source _wanted _him to figure out what it was. The ship wanted everyone, but it wanted him in particular, knew him far better than any Aparoid had a right to. The fiery anger had died, replaced by chilled dread that leaked up through his spine, building up in his throat as the breathing ceased and some thing spoke.

"_**FOXSSSSS…**_", the words rumbled up the corridor in a voice that stopped Fox in his tracks. It was low and throaty and guttural, like the sound of noxious fumes bubbling from the depths of a bog. He knew the voice. Fox was frozen, his heart fluttering, and something in his head told him it _couldn't _be true.

"_**FOXSSSSS…**_" the voice moaned, "_**WELCOME HOME, FOX.**_"

Fox tried to let his dread go as he breathed outwards, holding his incinerator close and staring at the ceiling as he put it all together. He reminded himself that it didn't matter anymore. In a night filled with chaos and eldritch horrors, it almost made sense.

"A core memory… from a large Aparoid. I guess you're the only one it _could've _been. The Queen was the source of the Aparoids' will, and when she died… maybe yours was the only will left in there," Fox murmured, glaring at the corridor depths, "You poisoned my life so long ago, it's hard to remember anything else. It _would _be you… Pigma."

Saying the name aloud made Fox's flesh tingle, like insects crawling through his fur.

"_**GOOD TO SEE YOU, LITTLE BUDDY**_," the voice chuckled, echoing down the corridor towards him. Fox grunted through the pain in his arm. He could feel it spreading into his back. He didn't have long.

"_**JOIN WITH ME, FOX. WITH US. WE ARE CHANGE. WE'RE NOT FROZEN IN ONE FORM, WE GROW, EVOLVE…TOGETHER. WHAT IS DEAD CAN NEVER DIE. THE SOULS HERE HAVE JOINED ME AND THEY WILL NEVER STOP, TIME WILL NOT ERODE THEM. IT IS BEAUTIFUL. I AM THE ANSWER TO ENTROPY, DON'T YOU SEE? I'VE FOUND A WAY TO LIVE… FOREVER.**_"

Fox sniffed and shook his head, looking around at the ship, smelling the sweet vomit stench grow stronger as the corridor bottlenecked.

"You stopped living the day you sold out the only friends you ever had," Fox hissed, "Ever since, all you've been is a dead man walking."

"_**YOU'RE A FOOL. JUST LIKE JAMES**_," the voice rumbled.

Fox felt dizzy, his footsteps were losing steadiness. His eyes went in and out of focus as he looked at the incinerator's fuel readout, showing nine percent fuel remaining. The mist cleared and the corridor terminated in a thick pair of blast doors that slowly ground open as he approached. A wave of stink slapped Fox in the face and he wanted to puke, but he didn't have time to be sick. Tiny touches of pain flared up Fox's back, his chest, emanating from his left shoulder.

He stumbled into the large, round room. It must've been much smaller before but something had eaten through the metal bulkheads of the ceiling and surrounding walls, expanding it. The ceiling appeared to be made up entirely of the glistening, pinkish-purple flesh lining that they'd seen display the message WELCOME HOME FOX earlier in the night, thick and wrinkled like a bed of writhing worms. Fleshy tendrils hung down from above like tree roots, hanging limp or seeping into the various computer equipment filling the room. A catwalk lined one half of the walls, leading down into the pit of equipment or ending in a ladder to a taller catwalk. Fox followed the catwalk with his eyes, up the ladder and at the end of the path, spotting a green and black and pink crystalline object at the very end, embedded thickly in the glistening fleshy mass with glowing green veins feeding out of it. He remembered what an Aparoid core memory looked like.

He edged his way towards the catwalk but several more hanging tendrils fell to block his path, and a nauseously liquid crunch reverberated throughout the room. Fox looked up to see the fleshy mass quivering, pulsating, and massive sharp yellow protrusions of bone slid out, fusing together, forming the teeth and jaw and brow of an enormous porcine skull. His stomach churned, his breaths shivering as thousands of wormy strips of flesh slithered around the gargantuan bones, wrapping them fully in makeshift musculature. Cracking, pinkish flesh lined with purple veins grew over the muscles like time lapse footage of mold overtaking an apple. The eye sockets remained hollow and burnt out, with small yellow pinpricks blazing through the darkness. Fox tried to swallow, tried to breathe, but couldn't. The leathery, cracked, enormous face of Pigma Dengar glared down at Fox, flexing it's jaw.

"Why is there always a giant head?" Fox murmured in a detached tone.

"_**I CAN SAVE YOU, FOX. I CAN SAVE EVERYONE**_ _**FROM THE LONELINESS AND FUTILITY OF LIFE,**_" Pigma rumbled, his voice shaking the entire room, "_**WHAT IS DEAD CAN NEVER DIE.**_ _**IF YOU COULD SEE THE JOY I OFFER**_."

"If you could see yourself," Fox retorted, edging close to the wall but not too close to the visceral lining, trying to spot a path around the hanging tendrils to the ladder, "Finally, the outside matches what was always underneath: Parasite. Rapist. Disease. _Thing._"

"_**GOD**_," Pigma rumbled.

Blood spattered onto the floor from Fox's bite and he gripped the incinerator, peering angrily into the yellow-pinprick eyes.

"You're not the first thing I've killed that's said that to me."

The cracked flesh covering Pigma's face pulsated, forming a gargantuan scowl. Inside the jaws, the thick tongue was engorging, throbbing like a cocoon of flesh.

"_**I AM THE ULTIMATE EXISTENCE. ALL LIFE NEVER NEED BE ALONE AGAIN, TO STRUGGLE AND DIE IN ENDLESS CYCLE. THEY WILL GROW AND CHANGE, WITH ME. TORTURED, INCOMPLETE, YOU CAN'T UNDERSTAND**_," Pigma boomed, his jaws not moving but his voice coming from all around, "_**WHEN OFFERED THE GREATER WHOLE, ALL YOU SEE IS THE LOSS OF THE LESSER. WHEN OFFERED COMMUNION, YOU SEE ONLY EXTINCTION. YOU WILL NEVER EMBRACE SALVATION, BUT I WILL SAVE YOU, FROM THE INSIDE. I WILL RAPE IT INTO YOU, AND YOUR WORLD.**_"

"Then come on, you fucker," Fox spat, "I'm still breathing."

The room trembled with roars and fleshy tendrils reached for Fox from above; Pigma's tongue exploded in a rain of black-red as something long and huge fell to the ground. Dropping low to avoid the tendrils, Fox beheld the thing sliding at him from the center of the room: A long slug body terminating in a porcine torso glistening with exposed muscles and ribcage, Pigma's face with a mouthful of sharp teeth and steel-like talons at the tip of each finger. The Pigma-thing shrieked and rushed him and Fox brought up his incinerator, squeezing the trigger. The incinerator burped flame and the fuel readout flashed with an error and the thing was upon Fox, swinging it's claws. Fox rolled across the floor and palmed his plasma cutter in his bloody left hand, screaming with white-hot pain as the cutter whined to life. The Pigma-creature squealed as Fox sliced an arm off, scrambling under fleshy tendrils towards the ladder.

He gripped the rungs, clawing his way up, only looking back for a moment to see the creature glide behind him, a long scythe of bone growing out of the stump of it's right arm. Throwing himself on the platform, coughing as the wind left his lungs, Fox crawled across the upper catwalk and pounded his elbow into the incinerator's fuel tank, shouting at it desperately to work. Lightning tore across his back and Fox screamed as fabric and flesh ripped. He tumbled across the catwalk, gripping the incinerator tightly to his chest as blood oozed out of the four fresh cuts. The Pigma-thing sloughed up onto the platform and leered with beady yellow eyes, holding up clawed fingers dripping with Fox's blood and raising the bone-scythe.

"_**WHY DON'T YOU JUST FUCKING DIE?**_" Pigma snarled, his ribcage cracking, tearing itself apart to form a gaping mouth in his chest. Fox struck the incinerator's fuel tank and it clicked into place as the Pigma-thing lunged. He brought the flamethrower up and an orange bloom of fire enveloped the creature, driving it back with a bellowing squeal. Fox held the trigger, blasting flames until the fuel read zero and the weapon sputtered to death. He tossed it to the side and rolled onto his chest as the Pigma-thing fell flaming off the catwalk. The fleshy mass covering the walls squirmed and crept downwards, tendrils reaching for Fox as he crawled along the grating, tearing open the pouch in his jacket and priming the green and silver SDP grenade with a press of a button.

"How many times do I have to kill you?" Fox hissed, flinging the grenade at the core memory.

The pill-shaped object tumbled through the air and hit the core, blasting apart in a green bloom of plasma. Fox looked up at the huge face, as the room trembled with roars of outrage. The pained expression on the giant face melted into a savage grin and the guttural voice chuckled cruelly, the pinprick eyes glaring from above.

"_**I'VE EVOLVED, FOX**_," Pigma grunted, his voice filling the room, "_**YOU CAN'T HURT ME. BUT I CAN HURT YOU…**_"

Millions of painful needles tore into Fox's arm and he howled, his arm bubbling and pulsating as blood spurted out of the bite. His body seized and flopped against the floor, hearing himself scream as his arm convulsed and twisted painfully and grabbed at his neck. Fox caught his own wrist and struggled against it, unable to stop screaming as tendrils stretched down from above and the fleshy mass lining the nearby walls bulged. He rolled back and forth, fighting his burning arm and shrieking his throat raw as the bulge of flesh from the walls crept closer, raking the air with reaching claws and tentacles that rolled out of the mass and re-absorbed as it drew closer. Through his agony, Fox pictured the _Starghast _falling through the Cornerian sky, bathed in fire and black smoke. His left arm spurted blood and his own fingers clawed at his face, the rolling mass of flesh drew closer, arms reaching for him, and over everything Pigma was laughing.

"_**NOW YOU'RE WITH ME, FOX,**_" Pigma said, "_**NOW YOU'RE ALL WITH ME.**_"

The mass of flesh and arms reached for his leg, and beneath the burning pain and terror Fox could hear in his mind, _You failed them. After everything, you failed when they needed you most. And now the world's going to end and everyone's going to die, because you couldn't stop it. _

The pain was blinding and tears obscured Fox's vision. Pigma's laughing stopped at some point, but Fox was beyond the point of hearing it. His left arm was imbued with unnatural strength, the fingers scratching into his windpipe. They gripped around his neck and started to squeeze, Fox gagging and coughing out ragged breaths, fighting it. His hand trembled and the grip relaxed. The painful burning dulled and his muscles fell limp. Fox gulped in a lungful of foetid air as tears rolled down the side of his face, and saw the reaching arm from the mass of flesh suddenly go limp as it brushed his boot heel. Black splotches were growing and spreading all around the fleshy mass, and Fox's arm began to hurt much less as the room shook with Pigma's roars.

He grunted and looked up to see the black splotches overtake the enormous face, twisted in torment as strips of flesh sloughed off the bones. Blackened, shriveling tendrils fell limply to the ground, and the flesh of Fox's arm settled back to normal as dark slime gushed in torrents from Pigma's empty eye sockets. He didn't question it, he just rolled onto his feet and took off towards the end of the platform, leaping onto the ground and hobbling out the door.

Fox emerged back into the corridor, finding the mist vanished and the dark halls of the _Starghast _filled with orange light as the floor and walls shook. His body was aching and soaked in blood and sweat, but the burning sensation in his arm was gone. The bulkheads trembled and rattled as the ship pounded through Corneria's atmosphere. It was a matter of seconds now before the CSB blasted the ship apart. Fox didn't know when, but it would come just suddenly, fire and explosions and powerful pulse-lasers tearing the _Starghast _apart and him with it-

"Fox! Buddy where you at? Did ya' kill tha' Source? " Falco's voice cracked over the comlink.

"I think I took care of it, but I'm still on the ship!" Fox grunted, trying to think of last words for his friend.

"No shit genius!" the avian snapped, "Me an' Krystal are in tha' shuttle we're comin' ta' get you. Find a window."

"It's no use, there's no escape pods and you can't land on the ship."

"Not gonna land. You're gonna bail out an' Imma catch ya, just like a jericho bird."

Fox froze, indifferent to the trembling, crashing ship.

"That's _insane_."

"Krystal says she can sense where ya' are so we can time it just right. What, ya' think I can't do it?" Falco retorted.

"I think the CSB's going to blow me up in twenty seconds."

"Then we got time," Falco snapped, "Haul ass."

Fox didn't argue, he just took off full sprint down the corridor as Falco downloaded a path on the ship to his scouter, showing a route to an observation room on an upper level.

Pumping his arms, ignoring the pain, he didn't think about how idiotically slim his chances of making it were, he just ran as the ship groaned and tremored all around him. He passed bodies and flailing, twisted creatures, all writhing on the floor as black stains spread over their bodies and rotted their flesh and bones. A rocking explosion echoed through the depths of the ship as Fox reached a stairwell and climbed upwards, ignoring the increasingly unstable ground at his feet. His lungs burned for air but Fox bit down and told himself to _keep running. _

He emerged on the next deck and cut to the left, rounding a corner and seeing an open room lined with benches and a miniaturized wierwood tree in a planter tumbled on its side. In the forefront of the room was an expansive viewport to the outside, blackened with soot. He could just barely make out flames and smoke and what might've been blue sky on the other side of the transparisteel, and only then did Fox pause.

The ship trembled around him, warping metal and the woosh of flames echoing down the halls, and he put a finger to his headset.

"Just pull back Falco," Fox instructed, his voice cracking, "You'll be caught in the blast, there's no way this'll work!"

"Fox I don't got time I need you ta' jump NOW!"

"Falco-"

"JUMP MOTHERFUCKER!"

The electric tingle of Krystal touching his mind animated Fox's limbs as a corridor collapsed behind him with a metal wail. Rushing towards the transparisteel, not thinking, Fox drew his EE-40 and fired shot after shot into the window. He threw himself into the viewport and it shattered around him, and the next few things happened frighteningly fast.

Smoke blinded his eyes as blistering heat wrapped around him, howling wind blasting through his ears and fur as his stomach sank with free fall. He tried to open his eyes back up and saw flashes of clear blue sky and the hull of the smoking black ship blurring away from him, then there was nothing but green and yellow and brown beneath him and Fox realized that he was hurtling towards the ground. He tried to breathe in but there was nothing there and what little he drew in was so icy that it stung. Sky and ground spun around him, his brain sloshed around in his skull as he tumbled through howling winds in a ball. A scream of plasma engines and a gray shape flashed over his head, diving down past him, and as gravity brakes shrieked Fox could make out for just a split-second the shape of the shuttle _Pleiades_. Then the ship swerved through the air, whipping around with the boarding ramp down and the entrance hatch open like a gaping mouth. The opening came up and swallowed him and a dizzying force gripped his body before he struck a hard surface on his side and felt blinding pain and a loud crunch that he knew was his bones. His eyes tried to adjust and he almost made out a blue-faced figure before everything faded away and Fox knew nothing.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: And then Fox died. Psyche. You know I wouldn't end it like that. I know it was a bit shorter but the whole chapter takes place over a period of maybe fifteen action packed minutes or so. So what did you guys think? How was the big reveal, and do you think the horror is really over? Leave me some reviews to let me know your thoughts, and you should see the denoument of our ghost story very, very soon.- TU**


	11. The Night He Came Home

**-The Night He Came Home-**

Soft cloth and sheets caressed Fox's fur, and the sensation was perplexing after so much pain. His eyelids fluttered open, pupils adjusting to bright glow panels in the ceiling. Raising his head from his pillow, he glanced out a window and saw the silver and white towers of Corneria City stretching far beyond into the horizon, the monochromatic spires interrupted by vertical forest parks and the constant traffic of starships and skycars. His brow furrowed and he looked around the room, at the clinical hospital bed and at the IV drip hooked into his right arm. He jolted in surprise at the sight of the green-skinned amphibian sitting in the chair next to his bed.

"Slippy! You're... alright," were the first words out of Fox's mouth.

The amphibian grinned and nodded enthusiastically, adjusting the red and white cap between his eyes.

"Everyone's fine, Fox!" Slippy chirped, "You did it, you saved everyone. _We_ saved everyone."

"I…I don't know what to say," Fox breathed, his mouth dry, "Where am I now? H-How did I get here?"

"Shhh," Slippy simpered, "Don't worry about it. You're with us now."

The amphibian laid a hand on Fox's wrist, just below his IV tube, squeezing gently.

Fox sighed, looking out the window again, about to ask where the others were when Slippy hissed, "You're with _all _of us now."

His wrist burned and Fox looked back to see Slippy's fingers sink into his wrist like putty, the amphibian's pupils swollen so his eyes looked black. Warping yellow lights danced in Slippy's eyes as hollow moans shook the room. Fox screamed but no one came and Slippy's mouth opened and dozens of pink tendrils writhed out, squirming into Fox's fur, burrowing under his flesh, into his eyes-

Fox gasped, his eyes flying open as he jerked upwards in bed. This was a mistake. Pain seized him all over his waist, his legs, his chest and arms, and he groaned loudly as he fell back into the pillow. He caught his breath as cold sweat settled into his fur and soaked his hospital gown. He was looking at the same gray ceilings and pale glowpanels, and he winced as he made another effort to sit upwards. The aches seized him like an electric shock up his side, and he fell grunting into the pillow. He caught his breath and looked down over the bandages and thermoplastic casts, the tubes in both arms and the treated synthflesh covering the section of forearm where he'd been bitten. Fox grunted and looked out the window, seeing the brightly lit skyscrapers and shimmering air traffic of Corneria City under a dark, sunless sky. It was still there.

Muffled murmurs of a familiar voice reached his ears, and a door at the corner of the room slid open. Fox spied a holovision flatscreen up on the wall, turned on to a commercial for what looked like dandruff shampoo as Peppy Hare stepped through the doorway with a relieved smile on his face. He sighed as his eyes met Fox and pressed the power button on the flatscreen display as the announcer menaced, "We now return to your twilight horror feature: **Curse of the Hypnotoad!** On WCA-Corneria." The flatscreen winked to black and Peppy looked back at him as if for the first time, the light of the glowpanels reflecting off his spectacles. He came towards the bed as Fox struggled to sit up.

"Here, don't push yourself," Peppy remarked, looking over the bandages and casts. He pressed a button on the side of Fox's hospital bed and the back end tilted upwards until Fox was more or less in a sitting position.

"Where am I? H—how long was I out?"

"You're in Sulmount Ward General Medcenter," Peppy replied, "You've been in and out of consciousness for the past two days. The docs say you've been having nightmares."

"I have..." Fox breathed, letting his eyes rest for a moment. He almost smelled sweet-vomit stench, and his eyes flew open wide.

"What happened?" he stammered desperately, "Did the ship crash? Are the nanites spreading?"

"Calm down," Peppy instructed, putting a hand on Fox's shoulder then dragging a chair away from the wall and taking a seat at Fox's bedside, "I said don't stress yourself, you took a pretty hard beating."

"Peppy."

The leporid's face dropped slightly, and Fox could see his own terrified expression reflected in Peppy's glasses. Peppy cleared his throat.

"The _Starghast _was completely destroyed twenty nine klicks over Corneria City by the CSB Enforcement Fleet. You bailed out maybe thirteen seconds before it happened," Peppy answered, "A few dozen pieces hit the surface, some of 'em big enough to damage some buildings... If you hadn't used the Self-Destruct Program to kill the Source, it's very likely enough nanites would've survived."

The breath rattled out of Fox's lungs, and the aches all over his body felt vaguely dulled. He sank back into his pillow and swallowed, staring into the ceiling. Peppy smirked underneath his whiskers, leaning back in his seat.

"So," the rabbit grunted, "How's it feel to save the world?"

"It only hurts when I breathe," Fox groaned.

Peppy snickered.

"That crazy stunt Falco and Krystal pulled nearly killed you. Not that you left us much choice for getting you off the ship. The shuttle's inertial dampeners and artificial gravity cushioned your fall enough that you weren't liquefied on impact. Instead, you broke... what was it?" Peppy remarked, ticking the points off with his fingers, "Three ribs, both legs, your right arm in three places, your right collarbone in two, hairline fractures in your pelvis... I think that's a record for you, isn't it? Oh yeah, and one of your ribs also punctured your spleen _and _your liver. Good news is it missed your stomach, and they're cloning you a new liver, so uh, drink up... Turns out you don't really need a spleen. You even know what it does? I don't."

"Awesome," Fox muttered, trying to shift to a comfortable position, but every time his body moved a new place began to hurt.

"Maybe not as bad as you think," Peppy shrugged, "You'll be back on your feet in a month or two. Helix Biotech is underwriting the cost of your medical bills on top of our other fees. We turned over the evidence we found and they seemed happy. You were still out, but R.J. McMurdo and I had a pretty good chat with the Ministry of Defense and the CSB. Morrow was embarrassed to learn one of her own agents sabotaged the ship and the whole situation is sensitive as far as the government's concerned, so everyone's just going to say it was a rogue AI and a mutated phage virus and agree not to talk about it anymore. The company was damn pleased, so we got a pretty hefty bonus. We'll be able to check a few things off our wish list with the Liat coming our way."

Fox sighed and tried to smile, giving Peppy thumbs-up.

"Does that bonus include turning up the painkillers?" Fox grimaced, "Because that would be really cool."

"I'll see what I can do in a bit, you should probably be coherent for this stuff," Peppy nodded, shifting in his seat as he fiddled with the data assistant on his wrist, "Here's one thing you _really _wouldn't have expected to hear: You may have just won some of Gillian Morrow's respect."

"Oh, really?" Fox wheezed, unable summon enough feeling to care about what Gillian Morrow thought of him.

"Really," Peppy nodded, a holographic page of green text appearing over his data assistant, "I mean, it's not like we can really talk about what happened too much, but I did get this: To Commander Fox McCloud and Lieutenants. On behalf of the Commonwealth Security Bureau, I extend my gratitude for your actions in defense of Corneria and it's Commonwealth. The neutralization of condition Delta-Romeo-Alpha on the CRV _Starghast _and the favorable conclusion of ComSec Op 625982 would not have been possible without your efforts. Operative Firestarter has been safely recovered for debriefing, and the matters of internal security and operative fealty will be rigorously investigated. Though you will receive no medals and public disclosure of your most recent assignment is prohibited under the State Secrets Act, all of Corneria, myself included, owe you a debt that cannot be quantified. The Bureau may re-evaluate it's position concerning Team StarFox and it's role in safeguarding the people and interests of the Commonwealth. Signed with regards, Gillian Morrow, Director of the Commonwealth Security Bureau, codename Den Mother."

The page of text dissolved in the air and Peppy cocked a wry eyebrow.

"I think you made a friend," the rabbit smirked.

Fox blew air out through his lips, not quite a whistle, and shook his head, not sure how to feel. Recent events hadn't left him inclined to trust anyone outside of his teammates. His eyes swelled at the thought and he almost shoved himself out of bed, remembering the restrictive casts at the last moment.

"Oh my god, Slippy! Is Slippy alright?" he demanded.

Peppy frowned and his ears drooped slightly. After a moment he nodded, the glowpanel lights dancing off his spectacles.

"We were able to put him in a stasis chamber and stop the spread of the nanites before it was too late," Peppy nodded, "He needed some minor surgery, but physically he's fine, recovering just down the hall. Mentally... he's going to need some time. Maybe some leave, vacation with Amy, that sort of thing. His nightmares are worse than yours, I think. The docs want to put him on antipsychotics for a while. I spoke with him for a bit earlier today... he was having a calm moment. He wants to have a funeral for ROB."

Fox tried to swallow, his mouth dry.

"There's no way to recover him?" Fox asked quietly. Peppy looked to the side and swallowed.

"We've got a backup of his operating system and memory files, but that dates from before the Aparoid Invasion. Even then, it doesn't account for the imperfections in his programming from all of Slippy's tweaks and upgrades. The ghosts in the machine that made him what he was... we'll never get those back. We can rebuild him, but it won't be the ROB we lost."

Fox's mouth was dry, his jaw tight, and he squeezed his hands into fists. ROB had been there, with Peppy and his father for as long as Fox could remember. Even when he'd pushed away everyone on the team after his break up with Krystal, ROB stayed. To most people in the Lylat System, androids stood somewhere between a pet, a slave and an appliance. Fox had felt the loss of someone special before, and it didn't feel like he'd lost an appliance now.

"He knew he was sacrificing himself for us," Peppy said hoarsely, "Most robots, especially operators, the way their programming works, wouldn't come to that conclusion. They're not allowed to _consider _self-termination. But he did it. I don't know why. Maybe it was the most logical choice, the one that minimized harm to us. Or maybe, somehow, he _felt_ something for all of us. We held value to him in a way that didn't compute, in a way that took priority over even his most basic functions. I like to think of it that way, true or not."

Fox nodded softly, closing his eyes for a moment.

"I think a funeral's a good idea," Fox whispered, "He deserves one."

When Fox opened his eyes, Peppy was still there, leaning forward with a serious look on his face.

"Before we started this, you asked me how many close calls before we lost someone. We all came close last time, but we faced it together. This time? We lost someone. And there were moments where each of us almost died, not together but alone. Isolated."

Fox licked the roof of his dry mouth and stared into Peppy's brown eyes, ignoring the ache in his lower back.

"We all faced death that night," Fox said quietly, "My worst fears, all of them... not being able to save any of you, or the people I swore to protect, or this planet... losing one of you... I looked all of that horror right in the face."

"And what now?" Peppy inquired, his rough deep voice reverberating around the corners of the hospital room, "Is that fear going to stop you from going back out there?"

"ROB wouldn't have wanted us to give up. If it had been you, you would've wanted us to go on. If it had been _me_, I would've wanted you to go on. When I thought I was going down with the ship... I was afraid but...it wasn't important. You were counting on me, everyone was. It was bigger than me or how afraid I felt. There were more important things," Fox answered, pausing, "Some day, each of us is going to have one close call too many. I have to come to peace with that, even though all of you are the only family I've got. What we do is bigger than me, and even if we're afraid, we don't ever give up. We can't give up. Because we're StarFox, and the end of our story probably is we die. I mean, what else do we do, retire and play chess? It doesn't work that way. We fight until we drop. And one day, I guess we _will_ drop. But until then, we'll fight."

A soft smile formed under Peppy's whiskers, the brown eyes under the spectacles softened.

"This would normally be the part where I tell you how much you sound like someone I used to know..." Peppy murmured, resting a hand on the wrist of Fox's cast, "But I think you know that already."

Fox returned the smile as Peppy rose out of his seat.

"By the way," the rabbit remarked, "I forgot to ask... when you went to the Source, did you find out what those messages meant? What was it?"

Fox's smile dissolved and he started to feel cold again. He looked back out the window. A haze of light was appearing over the horizon, between the polished towers. In the glare of the ceiling glowpanels, he saw the haunted look in his green eyes. Even Fox wasn't sure what he'd encountered on the _Starghast_. True, it had Pigma's voice, his face, but it had morphed into a very different monster from the duplicitous glutton that betrayed James McCloud. What could he say to make Peppy understand?

"Just a ghost," Fox said simply, "A ghost in a haunted house."

Peppy stared for a moment, then quietly nodded.

"I'll gather up the figures when Helix pays us. See if we can figure out what our profit is and where we can put it. Try to get some rest," The rabbit said, turning towards the door with his long white coat flowing behind him. The door slid open and he left.

Fox breathed out and sank into his pillow as the door began to slide shut, but a blue feathered hand grabbed onto the door and pushed it back open. An avian with scarlet highlights around his eyes stepped into the room, clad in an auburn flight suit and a white Team StarFox jacket. The soft corners of his beak were upturned in a smile and he spread his arms as he came into the room.

"Heyyyy, there's our Foxie!" Falco Lombardi beamed, striding across the room to the side of Fox's bed, "How ya doin' fuzzball? That was some of tha' coolest shit you've ever done, I think."

"That was some of the best flying you've ever done," Fox countered, "Looks like you saved _me _this time, thanks for that."

"Mehh, it was nothin'," Falco shrugged, "Nothin' I couldn't do again. Ya' know, I heard Jimmy McCloud got inta' some weird shit in tha' good old days, but I don't think he ever fought tha' _living dead_. That's a first, ain't it? They need ta' make a holodrama about us or somethin'. Who ya' think should play me?"

"I've seen some feline actors that could pull off your swagger."

"Hey watch it Academy Boy, next time ya' need me ta' catch you in freefall I might just be off by a degree or two. They'll be moppin' you off the side of the hull," Falco sniped.

"Yeah, and then who's going to put up with you?" Fox chuckled, his gaze wondering to a new figure in the doorway.

He and Falco fell silent as their eyes landed on Krystal, wearing a gray tee-shirt and vest with white jeans. Her aqua eyes locked onto Fox and she came quietly into the room until she was right at the foot of his hospital bed.

"Hel-lo, nurse," Fox quipped and Krystal giggled, putting a hand over her mouth then wiping something out of the corner of her eye. She came around the side of the bed, her bottlebrush tail twitching behind her, and without a word she wrapped her arms around Fox's neck and exhaled into his shoulder.

"Hey be careful, you might break another bone," Fox said warmly.

"I'm...I'm very glad you're not dead," she whispered in his ear.

He felt her breath on the fur of his ears, the warmth of her body against him and her smell like fresh forest rain in his nose. He didn't really feel like he needed the painkillers so badly.

She pulled back and looked down at him, he looked at her, and Fox realized that Falco had quietly left the room. She hadn't smiled at him like this since they were lovers.

"You know, when I left you there on the ship, I thought I'd never see you again. I—I should've known better, but at the time... I didn't think you were coming back. I felt like I could've said... more," she told him quietly, "I didn't realize how much I still cared. We've been through a lot together, you and I. You are... something special to me. As strong as I can be, I've never felt stronger than when I'm with you and my friends."

Fox bit his bottom lip slightly, looking up at her, enjoying the moment completely without any thought or expectation for the future. For however long, in whatever capacity, he was glad Krystal was in his life. He felt an electric tingle as her mind touched his, and there was no pain whatsoever. She gently squeezed his wrist and sat down on the corner of his bed. Their eyes were still locked on each other. She sighed and brushed a lock of cobalt hair out of her eyes.

"Do you remember that poem I was working on earlier?"

Fox nodded.

"I've had some time in the past few days. I think I've finished it. Would you like to hear the rest?" she inquired tenderly, looking at her knees, "It doesn't rhyme and it sounds better in the original Cerinian, but I think the ending is much better than the beginning."

He laid his head back into his pillow with a smile.

"Let's hear it."

Krystal cleared her throat, tracing a pattern with her fingertip into the pale hospital sheets.

"Day is done and the sun has set, so hold me close, my love; take my hand and feel my heart, as I take yours in mine, for the nights are black and full of horror," the vixen recited, her voice filling the room even though it was barely above a whisper, "Your heart beats with mine, together in the black. The darkness is patient and consuming and inevitable. But the smallest flame can hold it back. And our hearts, joined and strong, are the cleansing dawn."

They looked out the window as she finished. They could see their reflections in the glass, ghostly and fading away as the sun appeared brightly over the horizon, blazing with yellow light through the city's white towers.

"That was nice," Fox smiled, gazing out the window.

"I'm glad you liked it," she replied, the pale fur on her face glowing in the golden light of the dawn.

Moments passed and both of them were silent.

"...would you like me to go?"

"No," Fox said, his eyes still turned towards the window, "Stay with me for a while. I... It's been a while since I've seen a sunrise, you know? You can take them for granted. Some nights just go on for so long, it feels like it's never going to end. And then the sun comes up. And you can keep going."

He wasn't sure which one of them slid their hand close. But their fingertips touched, and soon enough his hand was clasped gently in hers. Fox sighed, smiled, and thought nothing of pain and darkness and death. He thought only of her next to him, and that was enough to push the darkness back as the sun rose over Corneria City.

* * *

It was always cold inside the Anvil. Gammel was sure the warden kept it like that to remind them of where they all were. The security in the prison wasn't quite as heavy as other joints the rodent had been in, and it didn't need to be: unless one somehow commandeered a ship, the only escape one would find through the walls of the Anvil was the icy death of space. He thought of that as he sat down at the mess hall table next to the athletic cheetah and the grizzled wolverine with the scar over his neck. Gammel looked down at the food tray in front of him, contemplating the three different shades of protein paste that filled the chambers. At least it was a more palatable-looking shade of greenish-gray than yesterday's lunch.

"Drowned a guy in a toilet once. Heard of this other guy... set the guy up as a cotamine mule, booked him on a cruise from Fortuna to Macbeth so he could smuggle the drugs through customs. Soon as he met up with his contact? They wail on his guts with octagon bats until the capsules burst in his belly. Nasty fuckin' way to go," the cheetah explained.

"What are you talking about, Matai?" Gammel sighed.

"The weirdest, most fucked-up ways we've heard of killing someone," the wolverine named Mitchell grunted in a gravelly voice.

"I shared mine," Matai shrugged, flicking a brown crumb of biscuit from the sleeve of his orange jumpsuit, "Mitch? Used to work for the Kerouac Cartel. They brought in some guy trying to turn state's evidence. Attached him to a bungee cord. Spaced him out an airlock, then towed him back in. You can survive that shit if they bring you in quick enough. They spaced this guy _three _times before his lungs exploded. Fucked up, right? What about you, weirdest way you've ever seen someone get offed?"

Gammel's mouth twisted, glancing down at his protien paste and going over the time he worked for the Deathclownz pirate gang before they were wiped out. As his mouth opened to give an answer, a rough voice from behind drawled, "Coffee cup."

They all paused, confused, and turned to the next table, where a muscular and scruffy gray lupine sat alone at the end of a mess hall table with his back to them. The wolf was looking over his left shoulder at them, or at least he _should _have been looking at them. Instead of an eye, there was a shriveled pucker where an eye should have been, bisected by a pair of short and jagged scars.

"Coffee cup? The fuck you mean by that?" Matai inquired, his spotted brow furrowing.

The lupine grumbled, turning his shoulders. His pointed ears cast a horned shadow over their table.

"I was out with my friend when we were kids. We were at some hole-in-tha-wall place gettin' coffee. Tha' waitress brought us two mugs and a pot and poured us some. My friend said he thought she was cute just like she was. She said thanks. She came back with tha' bill, and as I'm payin', my friend tells the waitress he thinks she's cute just like she is. She says thanks again an' my friend wants ta tip her, so she stays there while he finishes off his cup. Soon as he's done, he takes the mug an' wham! Breaks it off on tha' table so it's all sharp and jagged, grabs her by tha' hair an' carves her neck open. Happened like that," the wolf said, snapping his fingers for emphasis, "Folks are screamin' an' I'm runnin' outta there with 'im, and when we're back at the car I say Leon what tha' fuck. He looks at me an' he says I thought she was cute just like she was, I wanted her to stay like that. This way everyone'll remember her just like she was."

The three of them were almost silent enough to hear each other blink. The wolf shrugged and turned back in his seat, then Gammel turned around, looked at Matai and mouthed, "Who the fuck is that?"

"You don't know, mate?" Mitchell grunted, "He's our newest celebrity-"

"O'Donnell! Your meal time's over, get the fuck up!" a bold voice shouted. The three of them snapped to look at a gray-uniformed shepherd dog holding a shock baton, striding up to the seated wolf with a squeal of polished boots across the metal flooring. The guard reached the wolf's side and gestured with his shock baton, once more prompting the prisoner to rise. The wolf's head slowly turned and looked up at the guard.

"I'm takin' my time," the wolf growled, "Can't eat too fast or it's bad for my digestion."

"Funny," the guard grunted, "Lets see how funny it is when I use this to fuck your eye-hole."

The shepherd jabbed the shock baton into the wolf's shoulder and there was a sharp crackle of electricity. The lupine flinched away from the baton, but didn't make a sound.

The rough gray tail hanging off the end of his stool was stiff and still, and the wolf looked up at the guard silently.

Gammel looked around and realized that every convict at the surrounding tables was pretending not to watch the confrontation.

A harsh sniff erupted from the wolf's snout.

"Everyone wants ta' talk about the eye," the wolf sighed, "But nobody knows tha' real story...You wanna know how I lost it?"

The guard sneered, but said nothing. The sneer disappeared after a moment and he leaned just a bit closer.

The wolf's tail swished through the air.

"Kinda secret. Come a little closer."

The guard leaned a bit closer, then drew back with a stern look on his face. The wolf smirked.

"I'm in a supermax joint surrounded by dicks like you. I'm not gonna do anythin', I just don't wanna tarnish my reputation. C'mon a little closer so I can whisper."

Gammel wondered if he was the only one to notice the wolf moving his leg just outside of the guard's stance. He knew better than to break the silence of the mess hall. The guard leaned closer, keeping his baton pointed at the wolf.

It happened fast.

The wolf's leg swept the guard's feet out from under him, grabbing the back of his head as he fell and smashing his face into the corner of the table with an echoing crash.

The guard howled and the wolf shot to his feet, bellowing "THAT'S HOW!", driving a knee into the shepherd dog's face and pounding a fist hard into his jaw.

Cries of alarm from the other guards rose up as the mess hall erupted with howls of support and laughter from the rest of the convicts, rising out of their seats as the wolf struck the guard over and over. Gammel watched in astonishment, not sure whether to grin or gasp, as the wolf's teeth sank into the shepherd's ear. The shepherd scrambled and batted at the wolf but he sent another blow into the guard's battered face as he thrashed his jaws.

"Lock 'em down!" a guard roared, leading a gang through the mess hall towards the scuffle. More than a few convicts rose up and threw protein paste or food trays and were quickly tackled by reinforcements with shock batons.

A pack of guards converged on the wolf, jabbing him with shock sticks, but the lupine only fell back into the floor when a guard swung a baton hard across the back of his head. The wolf spilled to the floor and the guards rained down blows, and the sounds were much more animal than Gammel had ever heard another person make.

"Put him in iso!" The lead guard bellowed, and Gammel saw the pack of guards thin and a group of four drag the wolf away, two on each arm. The wolf's heels scraped along the floor as he bore a bloodied muzzle and teeth to the crowd, spitting out a piece of the shepherd dog's ear.

"Who's funny now, fucker?!" Wolf O'Donnell roared.

A muscled equine rose up from his seat and shouted "Awww yeah! Wolf O-D baby! Wolf! Wolf! Wolf!"

A handful more convicts joined the equine in the chant, shouting loudly "Wolf, Wolf, Wolf! Wolf, WOLF, WOLF!"

The guards dragged Wolf O'Donnell towards a gate, shocking him with their batons repeatedly, but they didn't wipe the feral grin from his blood-stained face or drain the intensity from his bulging lavender eye. Even through the pain and the blows he was cackling, watching the gate close shut on him as the guards struggled to contain the chanting convicts. By now the entire mess hall was chanting, and even as they dragged him to isolated confinement that was all that anyone in the Anvil's walls could hear:

"Wolf, Wolf, Wolf!"

"WOLF! WOLF! WOLF!"

"WOLF!"

"WOLF!"

"**WOLF**!"

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: The end. Cut to black and play "The Fragile" by Nine Inch Nails as the credits roll. I'm pretty proud of my venture into the horror genre, though I do wish I'd found some way to work the Arwings into the story. I just couldn't think of a way to include them that didn't detract from the horror tone or the general pacing. ****I also feel like the characters are wonderfully poised for StarWolf's inevitable return. For those of you with questions about Alice Phoenix, Miyu and what became of both of them, I'd direct you to Phoenix Ray. Those questions will be answered by her since they're her characters and it's her story to tell, however I think you can expect Alice to make a reappearance in a future story of mine, perhaps. Though I do have plans for a follow-up to this, which would serve as the final chapter of my StarFox series with Fox and Wolf going at it again with the fate of Corneria in the balance, I'm afraid that's not going to come until much later. I'm starting my first year of law school soon and it's a little ambitious to think that I could complete that epic before my semester begins, or give it the attention it deserves while trying to make the dean's list. Don't fret, however, since I intend to leave you all with a parting gift to tide you over: I'm going to go all the way back to the beginning, in my interpretation of James McCloud's origin story. It's going to be called Legend, and you should expect it pretty soon. I hope to join you all in that adventure, but whether or not I continue to enjoy your patronage, I thank you all for reading. Leave me some parting thoughts if you would be so kind. Nighty nightmare, everyone, it's been a scream. -TU**


End file.
